Hollywood Rehab
by SALJStella
Summary: Cary Elwes thought he'd seen it all. That after working this long in Hollywood, it doesn't get more fun than this. But when he meets Leigh Whannell, with so many dreams and ambitions, he has to remember how he once felt about acting - and love. CaryLeigh.
1. Mr Elwes, This Is Your Wakeup Call

**A/N: Hey there! I'm trying something new here… Since I've finished another fic, and I get the shakes if I don't have at least three fics in progress, but this one's different from the others! You know why? It's RPS! With our darlings Leigh and Cary!**

**1: Mr. Elwes, This Is Your Wakeup Call... **

She asks him if he wants to meet them.

Cary pins the phone to his ear with his shoulder and shuts down his laptop. He smiles weakly at Annie's question, since she so obviously hasn't read his reply to her latest Email.

Cary Elwes starred in his first real movie when he was twenty-two. And he knows that he should remember every second of that procedure, that every shot and every flash of the camera at the premiere should be etched into his mind forever and ever.

And it used to be like that. Cary isn't a monster, he has a very clear image of being twenty-five, young and pretty and naïve and keeping a journal over every day of every moviemaking he was a part of, even if it was just a ten-minute part in a "Seinfeld"-episode or an extra who's only real task was to dance in the background of a disco.

He does remember the high he got when he got a line _just _right, the annoyingly sentimental sting in his eyes when he stepped out onto the red carpet. And he does remember that he thought it would always be that way.

But that's a hard standard to follow. Because over the years, more people have discovered him, more movies have been made and more cameras have flashed on the red carpet. And at this point, Cary's twenty years older and all these cameras and all these moviemakings have sort of floated together in his mind, like ink on wet paper, he's gotten a wife and she's gotten pregnant. Life changes, and dreams change with it.

And ultimately, every movie's the same. Every director gets the same voice in the megaphone, every actress he has to kiss gets the same lips.

That's not really his… _Belief,_ though. It's more like mildew that spreads under the foundation of a house. You don't really notice it, doesn't notice the ugly and destructive until the floor caves under your feet and you're waist-deep in wetness and filth. And then, it's too late.

Unless someone comes along with a giant tube of pesticides and sprays the damn thing.

And that's a pretty good way to sum up Cary's day this far. He's been sprayed. By his agent. And two twenty year old film students he doesn't even know.

Cary checked his Emails after lunch. As always. It's a part of the whole mildew-thing. And he noticed a mail from Annie, his agent, which he opened, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to order Chinese food, eat with Lisa in front of the TV and find a bad movie to fall asleep to with his hand on her growing belly and not to _anything _that's _remotely _related to work.

The words on the screen were, so Annie-ish that Cary would've know it was from her even if he hadn't noticed the remitter:

_Cary, you _have _to see this! There are these two guys, they just graduated from movie academy, and they have a script and stuff, and they made this short film from their soon-to-be-movie to reel those fat Hollywood-guys in! (You're not a part of that category, though, so no worries :)) And I swear to God, if they're as hot as they are talented, I'll snatch them up! _

And an enclosed file. Cary had opened it, still smiling slightly at the actual Email, and waited for his computer to register the fact that it was supposed to open the damn file.

And it was the file that sprayed him.

Or, not sprayed. He's still not completely cured, there's still some small part of him that thinks that this movie is just like all the others.

But at least someone has jumped down into that mildew, grabbed a handful of it and thrown it away. And it isn't gone, it's far from gone, but someone's in there, someone's trying to cure him.

Because after watching the short film, Cary could do nothing but sitting back in his office chair, his hand frozen in the middle of the attempt to rake it through his hair, and gape.

Gape for a few seconds, and then press the 'reply'-button on the Email, only let the blinking line be still for a moment before he typed one single word on the screen.

_Wow! _

And then he had to pick up his phone and call Annie.

"Annie Manson's agency."

Cary had been forced to smile. Her voice had been so professional, so sharp on the edges. Like a lid that tried to hide the giggly little thirty year old teenage girl who lied beneath.

"Hey, it's me," Cary had said, and completed that raking with his hand through his hair that had been cut off before. "How are you?"

"Cary?" Annie had said, and Cary heard her office chair rattle when she straightened up from the position she'd had before, with her feet on her desk and her eyelids slipping down. "Have you seen the Email I've sent you?"

"Yeah," Cary had said. "It's great, really."

"I know!" Annie had blurted out, and Cary had heard the flapping of her broken shoes walk around on the floor in her office. "Seriously, if you agree to make this movie, I just might have to follow you to the movie set and check them out."

Cary had grinned weakly.

"They want me?"

"Yeah, they have a part that sounds perfect for you," Annie had said, and her steps had stopped to be replaced with the rustling of papers. "You're supposed to play a cheating doctor! Wouldn't it be nice to finally play a part you can relate to, Cary?"

Cary had chuckled and stood up from his chair. It had rattled in the exact same way as Annie's.

"Change is good, I guess," he'd said and picked up a paper clip from his desk. "Can you tell me something about these guys?"

"Well," Annie had said, and the teenage girl had apparently gotten hard to cover up. "They're aussies. Young, too, I think it was the delicate age of twenty-seven. The director's called… Wan, James Wan, it was James Wan. And the screenwriter… He was in the one in the short film, in fact, I think his name was… Wha… Nell. Leigh Whannell."

Cary had stopped in front of the computer and looked at the young man on the screen. Leigh Whannell, sobbing, in handcuffs, a cigarette dangling loose from his fingertips. Young, indeed. Didn't even look twenty-seven, more like… Hell, twenty? But he could definitely act. And as far as the short film went, he could definitely write, too. _And _he was pretty as a little puppy.

"He must be a real girl-magnet," Cary had said with laughter playing in his voice.

"Doesn't he?" Annie had said, almost moaned, and Cary could see through an inner eye how she bit the tip of her pen as she looked at her own computer screen. "You'll be playing against him, too."

Cary had smirked. The 'low battery'-sign had popped up on his screen.

"What makes you so sure I'll do it, Annie?" He'd asked softly, coaxingly.

Annie had laughed. He hated when she made decisions for him, and she hated when he pretended that she didn't know exactly what was on his mind after twenty years.

"Fine, fine," she'd said dejectedly, and in his head, she threw one hand into the air. "Ivan Simon Cary Elwes, would you at least like to meet these pretty little newbies over lunch to talk about the movie and see if you'd like to be a part of it as a cheating doctor with a ridiculously big amount of money?"

That's what she had said. And now, Cary's caught up with himself, and he closes his laptop down to save the batteries. And considers.

Or, not really considering. He knows what he's going to answer.

If someone's woken you up from the cynicism that unavoidably fills you up if you work in Hollywood for too long, fills you up or drowns you like icy water, it can't be escaped.

If someone wakes you up like that, you have to do whatever you can to make them successful, so they can keep working. Keep waking other people up like this.

"Yeah," Cary now says. "Of course I want to meet them."

**Cary wants to meet them… Well, if I'd seen Leigh in handcuffs, I'd like to meet him, too! In fact, I do! GIVE HIM TO ME NOW! And review! :)**


	2. Little Brother All Grown Up

**Man, I don't think it's ever been this long between two updates for me… And I'm so, so sorry for that, but my computer crashed, and… Well. It's not my fault, anyway! In fact, very few things are! XD Either way, read on… **

**2: Little Brother All Grown Up**

Leigh isn't sure why James is so much more nervous than him. Why he can't sit down, why Leigh can enjoy stirring his coffee cup and watch him pace back and forth.

When he and James first became friends, James started calling Leigh 'little brother.' Simply because the way it is _now _is so rare, and it's usually Leigh who worries and scratches his head and bites his nails until his fingers bleed, and James who takes notes about the scenes they're going to shoot and solves whatever problem they face by taking a deep breath, rub his forehead with his hand and then say, so calmly that Leigh wants to slap him in the face: _Okay, if we just take the camera and… _

So Leigh became the little brother. And he's never minded it, partly because if you put James in front of a girl, all that control seems to be out of the window, partly because when James _does _lose his grip, he does it big times.

And then, this is what he does. Leigh sighs theatrically, leans forward, grabs James sleeve and pulls him down onto the chair opposite him.

"You remember that song you hear when you're a kid?" Leigh asks with the corners of his mouth twitching. "You know, the wheels of the bus go round and round, round and round…"

James waves his one hand lazily and then rubs his forehead. It doesn't seem to be as effective now as it usually is, but Leigh still discerns a small smile before James moves his hand down over his face.

"I get it, man," he moans and finally takes the jar of Coke in front of him, it's room-temperature by now, and takes a quick sip of it. "But… It's Cary _Elwes, _for Christ's sake!"

James whispers the name. Like a load of paparazzis with flashing cameras will jump out from behind the tables if he says it too loud. Leigh smiles in a way he hopes is soothing.

"I'm aware of that, James."

James doesn't seem to hear him.

"I mean, he did… He was Robin _Hood, _he worked with _Jim Carrey…" _

"…So he should be able to play the role of a cheating doctor pretty well," Leigh cuts him off and takes a sip of his coffee. "Seriously, we're not meeting the queen of England. If this guy agreed to meet _here,_ maybe he won't live up to these standards of yours."

James scans over the decoration of the coffee house they're in, the sticky, red bar stools, the fake wooden counters, the dirty grey tiles on the floor, and smiles nervously.

"Fine, fine. But… What if he doesn't like us?"

Leigh shrugs. He even manages to smile again and scrapes his nail against the table he and James are sitting by. Maybe it's James' nervousness that calms him, but either way, he's not even almost as jittery as he thought he'd be. Mostly because at this point, things are so much bigger than the fact that they're seeing a real actor on a crappy little coffee shop in the doggy parts of LA, or that he's wearing nothing fancier than a washed-down Freddy Krueger t-shirt, or that his only support through all this right now seems so anxious that he won't be able to shake hands with Elwes when he comes here.

If he comes here.

Either way, this is the day when Leigh has to show him his script.

James part in this whole deal won't start until they actually get on the set. People won't judge him until it's too late for them to change their minds.

Leigh's going to have to hand over his script to _Cary Elwes, _he's going to have to watch him looking through it, going to see the lines traveling into Elwes' head, going to have to see him decide if he wants to take time out of his life to be chained to a pipe for no money at all just because two kids from Australia wants him to.

Leigh's going to have to hand over his script to Elwes, and by this, take the responsibility for if this movie is going to be like it is in his and James' head, or if Lawrence's Gordon's lines are going to be spoken by someone who isn't him, someone who isn't the Lawrence Gordon that Adam hates for taking up such a big part of his head but still loves with all his heart, but just a guy saying his words.

Yes, Leigh knows Lawrence Gordon. He knows him and he knows Adam. And if Lawrence isn't there, Adam won't be there, either, because Leigh won't be able to be him without feeling stupid, and he, too, will just be an actor saying someone's words.

Because Elwes is Lawrence. He was the one saying his lines in Leigh's head.

He's not even casted, and this movie already needs him more than Leigh will ever be able to admit.

Especially to James, since James is now looking at him like a little kid who needs his father to tell him that there are no monsters under his bed. Even if it isn't true.

"So what if he doesn't like us?" Leigh says in a vein hope that James is desperate enough to think he sounds casual, he sounds like he's on the verge of tears to himself. "We're his employers! If we're not good enough for him, we can dump his sorry as and find some other actor that looks just like a cheating doctor."

James nods, maybe a little slower than before, and takes another sip of his Coke.

"Okay…" He exhales and gathers up something that almost looks like a sincere smile. "Thanks, man."

Leigh manages to smile, too. Even though now, that James is cooling down, _he_ gets more worked up. Cosmic justice, isn't that what they call it?

"But seriously, I don't get how you can be so calm," James says and leans his chin in his hand, and Leigh is relieved to see that the ruler that's been his spine for the past two days is once again turning to the usual, worn rubber hose. "It's your script, and God knows you can be picky about who's reading that. Little brother."

Leigh smiles coyly and lowers his gaze. He knows James means it affectionately, but he's not sure if he's glad that he calls him that again.

Right now, he has to be something more than a little brother. He knows that.

James' little brother is a good writer, they both think so. But one thing he's not good at is talking to people who claims they have the right to have _opinions _about him, that's when he needs a big brother to look over it with partial eyes and tell him that it's good, it'll always be good. And those little brothers don't fit into movie sets.

Plus, Leigh's not sure if Adam would like to get portrayed by a guy like that.

"Yeah," Leigh says absent-mindedly and taps his finger against the lid of his coffee cup. "But I've already said it, we're the bosses of this guy, no matter how famous he is."

Adam scoffs in his head.

_Right. You think Cary Elwes will be fucked around by _little brother? _You need to be Leigh Whannell for this, man. If you think something else, you're a moron. _

Right. Adam's right, as usual.

It's a shame he has to die, in fact. Leigh isn't sure if Adam will stay in his head after his death, nor is he sure how much confidence he'll have without him. Adam is the part of him that says everything he wishes he could say to the guys who apparently have the right to review his stuff, that part that's lost and scared and frustrated, but at least has the balls to show it.

Leigh is very rarely lost and scared.

But when he is, he wishes he had half the courage Adam has. And that fact alone makes him a little scared, since he has no idea what people will think of Adam. Hell, he's lucky if he'll even make people know that there's a character in the endless movie space called Adam Faulkner, but if they do know, and still don't like him, Leigh's going to have to find a new part of him that has balls when he needs it the most.

It's a good thing that he's got himself. He has the Leigh Whannell that Adam talks about. And that guy is pretty cool, actually. Most of the time. He's nice and strong and optimistic and creative, and according to his girlfriend, he's a great lover. Who could ask for more?

Leigh barely has the time to finish that thought before James' eyes widen at the sight of something behind Leigh's back and clutches to his hand under the table. Leigh almost laughs out loud, and the cosmic justice once again sooths him.

"Shit," James hisses under his breath and stumbles to his feet. "Be cool now, okay?"

"Talking to yourself there, Jimmy?" Leigh bites back in a whisper before he turns around and faces Cary Elwes in real life for the first time.

Leigh's never felt shorter in his life. Cary Elwes really is tall, and despite the friendly smile and the Barbie-and-Ken-look, he feels surprisingly intimidated, and Adam scoffs again.

_You're going to play me, remember? If this guy's going to be Lawrence, you're going to have to feel at least a _little _superior. _

And once again, he's right. So Leigh puts on a smile as he watches James shake hands with Cary. Elwes. That's here to have lunch with them.

"It's so nice to meet you," James says, and Leigh can hear in the undertone of exhaling in his voice that he was starting to worry that he wouldn't show up at all. "I'm James Wan, I'm the director. This is my pal Leigh."

Cary Elwes walks up to Leigh, still with the polite smile, and Leigh can't feel his hand when he lifts it up to take his.

"So you're the kid in the short film I saw?" Cary Elwes asks, and Leigh hates himself for blushing. For God's sake, wasn't it he who just said that _he _was the boss?

"Yeah," Leigh says and tries to keep his eyes on Cary Elwes' face. "That's how dirty this movie's going to be."

"Sounds wonderful," Cary Elwes says and sits down.

Leigh does so, too, just like James, who sends Leigh an unreadable glance across the table. Leigh is starting to feel his hands again, for a reason he doesn't really know.

"I wouldn't say so," he says with a small smile and spots his own coffee cup on the table. "Oh, sorry, would you like something before we get to talking?"

Cary Elwes raises his hand, declining.

"No, thanks, I'm good. What were you saying?"

"If you're going to do this movie with us, you'll be drenched in just as much blood as me," Leigh finishes off, and Cary Elwes chuckles. "Probably more."

That was good. Not too cocky, and still not sucking up. Good comment. Adam would've been proud.

"I played Ted Bundy in my latest film," Cary Elwes says, and that smile turns slightly nostalgic. "I'm on a roll with dirty movies right now, even if I don't get to be the bad guy."

Leigh smiles, too. Not as nervous as before.

"So we should've have casted you as the bad guy?"

"Nah," Cary Elwes says and spins the wedding ring on his finger around.

Now, his smile turns self-mocking.

"I find it kind of hard to think of the guy who made that puppet to look like a Ken doll."

He looks up at Leigh with a grin. Like they've already been Adam and Lawrence together.

And at that moment, Leigh's nervousness melts away, and he's actually able to laugh. That cold, wet feeling gets replaced with the body-temperatured, heavy sensation of safety. Because he's gotten a new buddy. And he's no longer called Cary Elwes, just Cary, because he's no longer just an actor, not just a name on the end credits. He's real. A person.

And you should be able to talk to your buddies about who's been in your head for the past two years now, shouldn't you?

So Leigh takes a deep breath. He doesn't grin back at Cary, just the fact that he has lunch with someone he's suddenly sure of will want to be Lawrence Gordon is too big for grins, and he doesn't even think about the fact that James should probably want to be in this conversation, too, when he opens his mouth.

"So, you want some information on your might-be character?"

**Aw… They're just as cute as Adam and Lawrence, aren't they? Anyway, review! **


	3. All That You Can Leave Behind

**A/N: Whoopie-dee, a new chapter! Missed me, haven't you? Anyway, on a quick note: Those of you who really, really love Cary know that his kid is only soon-to-be two years, so no, his wife couldn't have been pregnant when he made this awesome movie. But if you only knew how hard I worked to keep this canon (since we all know that Cary and Leigh hooked up on the real movie set, too XD) you'd be indulgent about that.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Saw, or Leigh, or Cary. They own themselves, unfortunately…**

**3: All That You Can Leave Behind**

Cary takes a look at his watch as he unlocks the door, and it really is stupid, but he's so nervous that he almost drops his keys when he puts them back into his pocket. _Fuck… _

How the hell do you get so lost in a conversation that something that should've taken an hour takes four? Fine, it was his first time meeting the guys and fine, they're his possible employers and they were really nice and whatnot, but damn it, he has a pregnant wife at home and a stomach that kept rumbling, since he still refused to get something to eat as he talked to Leigh and James, talked and talked and talked about the movie, and then about other movies, and then about his future child, and then about Leigh and James' time in film school. It was the most fun Cary's had in a long, long time.

But still.

Ever since he met Lisa, she's made fun of him for always being early for everything. And now, he's so damn late that it's not even funny, so he hurries to open the door and step inside.

Lisa doesn't look nearly as abandoned as he thought, though. When Cary's kicked off his shoes and half-run into the living room, he spots her on the couch, laying down with her feet on a stool and a plastic jar of leftovers balancing on her pouting belly, with the TV playing flashingly in front of her.

"Hello, darling," Lisa says with a small smile and wipes some smeared lipstick from her face. "Did you get into a really bad argument with those guys, or did you just have a really good time?"

Cary doesn't answer right away. He has to smile when he sees her, since she still does, after ten years, alone brings that feeling to him.

That softly, warmly, humming safety in his chest.

That feeling that nothing can touch her, and if he only stays with her, then nothing can touch him, either. That thought that no other woman could carry his child and keep it as close to her as she does.

"Hi," he says insecurely. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Lisa says and points her fork to the TV-screen. "'Hair's on TV and I have leftovers."

Cary chuckles and sits down next to her. Puts his arm on the back of the couch, lets his hand dangle limply into her hair, dark cotton strings, damp against his fingertips. She showers a lot now days.

Lisa looks up at him. Her eyes are glowing. All of her does.

"Well?" She asks softly, and Cary smiles again.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," he mumbles and drops his arm, plants his hand on the back of her head. "But yeah, it was really great. They seem like really sweet guys."

"Really?" Lisa says and jabs her fork into something in the jar in front of her.

"Yeah," Cary says and looks longingly at the fried pork she buries her teeth in. "I mean, I showed you that short film, you know they're really talented, but they… Either they're not aware of it, or they're just really modest, I had to shove compliments down their throats to make them agree with them."

Lisa smiles absent-mindedly and looks up at him again, Cary smiles back at her and wipes some garlic sauce from her chin.

So beautiful.

"What was it that took so long?" Lisa goes on and lets her head rest lightly on his shoulder. "Was it the persuasion about how talented they were?"

Cary chuckles and kisses her forehead.

"No, not really. I just… Kind of got lost. It was so much fun talking to them. They're so… Ambitious, you know? I mean, at my age, I… I don't really get to see any moviemakes who really _care _about their work, they just want me to say my lines, and if it doesn't feel right, who cares, I'll get my money and then I'm supposed to shut up, and of course, I'm part of the system, but these guys…. They care. They really do. They love this movie and they want it to be good, it doesn't even have to be successful, that's not what matters, it's…"

He drifts off, because he's not sure what he wants to say anymore. At this point, Cary isn't talking to Lisa anymore, he's talking to himself, but she's still looking at him, so she notices it, and as much as she likes to deny it, that glow in her eyes fades out. If only a little bit.

Because she knows Cary well enough. She notices that he's not asking her for counseling, because he's already decided what to do. He will make this movie, and no matter what she says and does, he's not going to change his mind.

And even though it bothers her, she doesn't even want to _try _to talk him out of it. Because just like Lisa still is Cary's comfort, his safe place, he's still the love of her life. In that way that… _Feels. _

So she loves him way too much to see what he'd look like if she said she didn't want him to do it.

Lisa smiles again and puts a hand on his cheek. Asks him, just to make him understand it, too.

"So are you going to do it?"

God, he looks so guilty. What does he expect her to do, burst into a river of hormonal tears?

Cary slowly opens his mouth, lowers his gaze, and Lisa's smile gets wider, which fills him with some sort of security, as always, and he can smile uncertainly. That turns Lisa's smile into a laugh.

"It's okay, Cary."

"Really?" Cary says and lays a hand on her wrist. "I mean, it'll be just like that Ted Bundy-movie, it's this low-budget-thing, it'll only be eighteen days… And you'll get to meet them, too, they're really great guys. You'd like them."

Lisa nods. Maybe her smile turns a little bitter, because Cary tightens his grip on her wrist.

"It's only eighteen days, Lisa. I'll be here when it's time."

Lisa nods again. Of course. He's right. And even if he wouldn't be, that hand he places on her stomach is enough to make her believe pretty much anything.

Cary's right. And as she's said, he doesn't have to be right, because she can tell, just by looking at his face, that he's gotten an epiphany. A revelation. And she'd never take that away from him.

He's gotten an idea that there's hope. For his cynicism to go away, for his work to matter to him again.

That the person he's been, professionally, for as long as she's known him, the person who reads a script, says a line and leaves it at that, might go away and be replaced by the little kid she's seen in his earlier movies.

The one with the wide smile, the glistening eyes, the way he said those lines, like every word mattered, caressed his tongue and left their taste on his lips.

Lisa loves Cary. But she still misses that kid on the TV-screen she's seen. And she never even got to know him.

"I know you will," she says, and Cary kisses her forehead again. "So you're going to do it?"

Cary only has to think for a second, because he _has _already made his decision, she knows that, before a big, silly grin spreads on his lips, he looks twenty again, despite the thin wrinkles, like pencil lines around his eyes.

"Yeah, I will. And seriously, I can't wait."

Pause. The grin fades away, and suddenly, Cary's very serious. Almost grave. And his next sentence almost a whisper.

"They don't know it themselves. But Lisa, these guys will become something big. I'm sure of that."

Lisa nods again, and Cary kisses her softly, the garlic sauce is like a thin layer on the inside of her mouth, before he becomes himself again, or at least the one she knows, scoots down on the couch, steals a piece of her fried pork and falls asleep a half hour later with his nose in the crook of her neck.

Maybe it's the hunger. Or just all the talking. Or the feeling that he entered a new stage in his life. Or reentered one he's missed more than he even knows about.

But either way, Cary falls asleep. But if he knew how big his new friends will become, not only in Hollywood, but as parts in his life, he wouldn't have slept for the whole night.

**YAY! You know what? This boring part where I have to introduce the characters and begin the story and everything is almost done! The REAL stuff will begin soon! Oh, I'm so happy… Anyway, please review!**


	4. The Real Horror Of Saw

**A/N: Oh, brother… I swear to God that I did something bad in my previous life, and to punish me, God's injecting me with flu. Sneaky bastard… Anyway, I'd say that that's a proper excuse for being a lazy bitch. And even if it isn't, keep reading anyway!**

**4: The Real Horror Of Saw**

Leigh falls back onto his hotel bed with a sigh and closes his eyes.

The sheets are cold and humid, the fluorescent lights quiver from the roof with the light of an OR, but he doesn't care. If he hadn't heard the springs in James' bed creaking when he sat down, he would've fallen asleep right there, right then.

Leigh had more fun this afternoon than he remembers having since he left film school, the only place where he got to do what he loved and more people than James and his mom actually cared about it, but still. It feels like he's spend the whole day walking against a very, very hard wind, like the slushy snowflakes are now melting from the drips in his hair. And the worst part isn't even over.

James moans tiredly, too, and Leigh sees him rubbing his temples on the insides of his eyelids.

"How do you think it went?" James asks when the rustling from the bedspread tells Leigh that he's dropped his hands again.

"Shut up for a while, man," Leigh says without opening his eyes. "We should take our chance and relax while the guys on the other side of the field reload the bullets we're supposed to dodge."

James chuckles, and Leigh hears the dull _thumps _from his boots dropping to the floor when he takes them off.

"No, seriously," he nags, and Leigh grumbles something, furrows his brows. "How did it go? Did he like us?"

Leigh laughs wearily, realizes that James won't relax before he gets an answer to this question, and opens his eyes reluctantly, spots the blurry shape of his friends on the bed next to his in the corner of his eye.

"You sound like I left you here to watch reruns of 'Hell's Kitchen' and went alone," he grunts and rolls over to his side. "You were there, weren't you? And you won't be able to direct a damn movie if you need me to tell you whenever something gets good."

James pretends not to hear him. He won't hear anything Leigh says until he gives a direct answer, so Leigh chuckles again and rolls over to his back.

"Yes, James, I think he liked us," he finally says. "I mean, we stayed at that diner – and he didn't eat anything, so that couldn't have been what kept him there – for, like, hours until after we'd stopped talking about the movie, and I don't think he'd do that if he had a pregnant wife at home unless he liked us."

James grins stupidly and finally lies down on his bed, too.

"Maybe he's just a really crappy husband," he says thoughtfully, and Leigh grins, too, and closes his eyes again.

"Then he'll be an awesome Lawrence," he says, and James makes some sort of mumbling recognition in the back of his throat.

Leigh hopes he won't say anything else now. Today's been hard, he just wants to sleep.

Plus, now that they've got a potential Lawrence, he wants Adam to be top-notch tomorrow.

Leigh doesn't manage to think more before his cell phone rings.

_And you have to answer? Pussy. _

_Fuck you, Adam. _

Leigh hisses something before he hauls the damn phone out of his pocket and presses the big, green button.

"Hello?"

Thank God he didn't manage to fall asleep. Then he'd be twice as cranky and twice as hoarse, and he can't afford to make an impression like that when he hears the voice on the other end.

"Hey, Leigh, it's me. Cary Elwes."

He actually sounds a little drowsy, too.

Leigh almost gets annoyed when he goes from relaxing for the first time today into jolting up on his bed and shoot a glance that he doesn't even know what it says to James, who looks at him with lazy interest.

"Cary? Uh… Hi."

Jesus Christ. Sure, Leigh had given him his cell phone number so he could call if he came up with a decision, but _fuck, _it's only been an hour! And Leigh isn't ready for this, in fact, he feels a mild panic building up in his hazy brain as he rakes a trembling hand through his hair. And he'd just gotten sort of casual around this guy…

"Hi," Cary says, he genuinely sounds happy under the sleepiness. "You know, I've been thinking about this part…"

"Yeah?" Leigh says, and his smile is sincere, though his pulse increases even more. "You got an answer for me?"

Cary chuckles, but Leigh registers something that almost sounds like astonishment. Over himself. He's not sure if that makes him happy.

"Of course I do," Cary then says softly, and Leigh feels a stone falling from his chest, because then, he knows what he's about to say. "I knew the second I walked out of that diner. I just had to run it by my wife"

James' brows are furrowed. Oh, big brother, if you only knew.

"I'm doing it," Cary says, and Leigh laughs out loud, out of relief, nothing else, closes his eyes, rakes a hand through his hair again.

For Adam.

He can't help but thinking that.

This is all for Adam. For Adam and for Lawrence, for after all the shit Leigh and his imagination has forced them through.

They deserve to have a good movie made about them. And even if they don't, Leigh loves them too much to give them something else.

_You're damn right we deserve it, _Adam says, and Leigh hears his smirk, hell, he _sees _it, because he's almost real, he's basically real now. _And you're going to do it now, man. And so is Lawrence. _

Yup. They're doing it.

The hand that holds the phone is shaking.

_Adam, we're doing it! We're doing it for you! _

"You're doing it?" Leigh says stupidly, laughs again. "Jesus Christ, man…"

Cary laughs, too.

"I know… But seriously, don't sound so surprised. When you've worked as an actor for twenty years, you don't see people like you guys anymore. And when you do, it's impossible not to want to do anything for them."

Leigh laughs again, because he doesn't know what else to do. Or, yeah, if he doesn't laugh, he's going to cry, and he can't do that. He loves Cary right now, but he doesn't know him that well yet.

"Wow…" Leigh stutters out, and he doesn't even look at James. "I… God, I don't know what to say, or… Thanks, I guess… Thanks for doing this…"

"No problem," Cary says, Leigh feels his smile from the other side of the phone. "Can I trust your agents to get in touch with mine?"

"Of course, of course," Leigh says and nods to himself. "As soon as possible."

"Good," Cary says. "She loves you two, by the way. Don't be surprised if she looks you up in person and says it's for my sake."

Leigh smiles wearily.

"I hear you, man. Anyway, I'll talk to you later, right?"

"Sure. Bye."

"Bye."

Leigh hangs up. He knows James is looking at him with eyes in the size of the Coke he had earlier today, but he still can't say something right away, just sit there with the hand clutching to the phone pressed against his lips, his head bowed, and Adam's sly grin on the inside of his skull.

James and him rarely hug. They don't really have that kind of friendship. But that night, it's like it gets too much for both of them, they're nervous and giggly like little girls, and it ends with them in the middle of the room, clutching to each other's shoulders and spinning around, like in a dance, before they have to let go of each other just to catch breath.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Cary runs through the apartment, mumbles to himself. Good thing he doesn't have to take a plane, then he'd been so late by now that he doubts they'd still want him in that movie. But he _does _have a time when he has to be there, and if he doesn't get down to the car soon, he _will _miss it.

Lisa's standing in the kitchen door, her shoulder leans against the frame and both her hands are on her stomach.

"Can I help you with something, Cary?" She asks sweetly while Cary forces his toothbrush into his suitcase.

Cary shakes his head violently when he bends down to tie his shoes. He prefers not to look at Lisa right now. Even though she's been nothing but supportive for the past couple of weeks, he can't really look at the silky ponytail and the pouting belly without feeling like the worst husband in the world.

"Nah, I'm fine," Cary says when he straightens up and puts his jacket on. "And I swear to God, Lisa, I'll be back as soon as I can. I just have to do this, I'll never forgive myself otherwise."

Lisa nods with a small smile. Cary wishes he could stay a little longer, since even though he's eager to make this movie, he wishes he could suck it all in, her silhouette against the kitchen window and the clouds outside. But instead, he closes his eyes, kisses her deeply and remorsefully, with his hand on her hip.

"Don't have that baby until I'm back."

"I promise," Lisa says and waves meekly when Cary shoots her one last glance through the door before he closes it. "Bye, Cary, I love you."

"I love you, too."

Cary rushes down the stairs and basically hits his knees on the car door in his eager to open it.

He's not calm again until he realizes that it's about an hour until he told James he'd be there, and only one block left.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The plane is the white and glittering horse, the smooth iron surface is the fur.

Leigh is the knight. His washed down Curt Cobain-t-shirt is his armor, his worn backpack is his sword.

James is his sidekick. And neither of them can get on that damn horse, they can just stand there and stare.

It's not a big deal. They've gone to America before, hell, they were there just a few weeks ago and had lunch with Cary _Elwes, _what can be scarier than that?

It's just that…

It's real now.

Back then, it was uncertain. They didn't know if Cary was going to make the movie, they didn't know if they'd get Shawnee Smith to play Amanda, they didn't know if they'd get the electricians, the prop guys, the makeup artists.

But now, all that is taken care of.

Now, it's real. Leigh and James will get on that plane, they will go to America, they've packed their bags and Leigh's said his teary goodbyes to Corbett. And they're going to make a movie. Their movie.

And no one's going to watch the damn thing. But Adam and Lawrence will be out there. Everyone will be able to see them, and they won't be Leigh's anymore.

And that mere thought is so tingling and swooshing to Leigh, so joyously sparkling in his chest, that it's too much. It gets scary.

Adam's lucky that Leigh loves him enough to actually take a deep breath and look at James. James looks more than nervous, he looks downright _terrified,_ and once again, that sooths Leigh a little.

"So…" Leigh says and glances over at the thing that right now seems scarier than any of the traps they've ever come up with together. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"

James nods jittery.

"Seems like we are," he says with a sigh.

Leigh's sure they'd be able to stand there and look at that plane forever. If not because this is scary as hell, but also because there's a slight chance that it'll all be in vain.

There's a slight chance that Leigh's going to go there, play Adam, and then be forced to realize that this was all.

That thought, on the other hand, isn't exciting at all.

But at one point, when both he and James seem to have lost tracks of time, a stewardess with a chirping squeak for a voice beckons for them to come over, because it's almost time for them to go and she needs all passengers to be seated within a fifteen-minute-period before it's time for takeoff.

James sighs again, touches Leigh's arm slightly.

"Come on, man. It can't be as scary as we think."

"I hope not," Leigh says and starts walking towards the plane. "Because we can think of damn scary things."

"Yeah. But it's the bread and butter, right?"

_Oh, come on, _Adam moans when Leigh says hello to the chirping stewardess. _This is nothing. I've spent the past two years in either a chain or that fucking darkroom, twelve hours in a plane chair would be heaven to me. _

_Now, now, young man, I suggest you stay right where you are, _Leigh answers and tries to find his seat. _You'll soon be accompanied by Dr. Lawrence Gordon, and trust me, you'll have a blast. _

Adam mutters something in response.

Yup. It's begun.

**You hear that? Leigh says it's begun! And we all know that every single thing Leigh Whannell says is true, right? Anyway, feel free to review!**


	5. Instead Of Rehearsing

**A/N: YAY! Another chapter! And I know there's been an overload of annoying wives and girlfriends and other Leigh-Cary-having-mad-passionate-sex-stoppers in the past chapters, so I thought it was only fair that they had some touch in this chapter… So enjoy!**

**5: Instead Of Rehearsing**

It's amazing when you realize that you've missed a place you've only been to a couple of times.

Especially when the place you've missed is a dirty warehouse where you can't even move, because then your toes are going to get flattened by a camera on wheels.

But Cary has. He realizes that when he steps out of the car, yawning, wishing he had coffee. He's missed all that, and how can he miss that when he doesn't even get to see his wife, sneak a hand onto her stomach to check if the baby's kicking?

Maybe it's just that he hasn't played a good guy in a while. Maybe it's the guys he gets to make this movie with.

Maybe it's their visions. Their dreams, their ambitions. The way this movie seems to be the most important thing they've ever done, and they have eighteen days to do it in, but they still have time to laugh about it.

Maybe it's Leigh.

Cary has to smile to himself when he walks up to the front door and unlocks it with a key that James has given to the whole staff.

James is great, Cary likes him a lot. They'd be best friends forever if they'd met outside the movie set, he's sure of that. But it's hard to really bond with someone that's always hidden behind a notepad to write down what went wrong in his schedule this time, hasn't sat down since Cary first met him, drinks Coke every given second but still has those dark marks under his eyes.

Cary worries about him a little. It seems like Hollywood has already gotten the best of him, or he's just never had the strength to fight it, if it's broken him down with its demands this early.

Just like it did with Cary.

Leigh, on the other hand, is someone he can be best friends forever with even though he probably hasn't gotten more than three hours of sleep every night for the past month, either, even though they have to shout their conversations across the bathroom if they're too lazy to get out of their chains for a lunch break.

Anyone can be best friends with him at anytime, simply because Leigh is both so smart that he knows what Hollywood expects from him, and foolish enough not to care about it.

Maybe that's why he's the only one who can calm James down when he looks through the scenes they've shot today with the face of someone who's on the brink of tears.

Maybe that's why Cary, even though he knows that this carefreeness is more a sign of stupidity than smartness, feels like he'd run through a wall for him.

Either way, Leigh is the first thing he sees when he walks into the bathroom. He grins wearily and raises his hand while Cary walks up to him and James.

Luckily, James is durable to be around right now, because it's early enough in the morning for him _not _to have had a mental breakdown just yet. Instead, he tries to explain to Leigh what scenes they'll be shooting today, and Leigh looks like he listens to his dad when he tells him not to follow strangers to their cars. Again.

Cary walks into that conversation in the middle of:

"…And you can't throw the bag into the bathtub until Cary _looks away." _

And it's said with such determination that Cary doesn't get how Leigh can just roll his eyes at it with a smile that refuses to go away.

"Anything else you have to run by me, man?"

"Yeah," James goes on, since he obviously doesn't hear the sarcasm in the words, "you have to make sure that when you pick up the saws from the bag, the pictures can't follow, because when we rehearsed, you… Fuck, stop that!"

Leigh's head bounces back up when he awakes from the fake sleep he drifted into in the middle of James' sentence, and he laughs maliciously when James punches his shoulder. Cary tries not to smile, but it's hard.

"_Relax, _James," Leigh says when he's stopped snickering, but James still looks annoyed. "I'm on top of this. I _wrote _the damn script, remember? And Cary's here now! Cary knows how to do things like this, don't you, Cary?"

Cary has to work even harder to keep from smiling when James looks up at him with something that looks like pure desperation in his eyes.

"Yes, of course," he says, puts a hand on James' shoulder and changes an amused look with Leigh.

"Hear that?" Leigh says with exaggerated fighting spirit, and carefully pushes James towards the production room. "Now, just talk to the editing people about yesterday's scene, Cary and I will rehearse for a while, and then we're going to shoot, and it'll be so freakin' good that it'll win an Oscar. Okay?"

James just whimpers something in response and walks reluctantly into the production room, with one last tortured look at Leigh and Cary before he closes the door, like he expects them to smash the cameras with something if he lets them out of sight.

Cary only barely manages to keep the laughter inside until James closes the door. Leigh grins insecurely, too, his eyes glimmer slyly when he scratches the back of his head.

"I'm sorry about him," he says while Cary holds his hand over his mouth so his giggling won't be heard through the door. "He still thinks I'm his little brother."

"His little brother?" Cary says inquisitively when he's managed to calm down.

Leigh lets his hand fall from his head and shakes his head unnoticeably, like he caught himself saying something he shouldn't.

"Nothing. Inside joke. Anyway, you've learned your lines?"

"Yeah," Cary says and takes his script out of his shoulder bag and shuffles through it briefly.

"Good," Leigh says and looks over a page in his own copy with furrowed brows. "I think James' head would explode if you hadn't…"

Cary chuckles weakly, and then there are a few seconds of silence while they both read their lines. Cary's finished his before Leigh has, this is more Adam's scene than Lawrence's, so instead, he browses through the script again and finds himself reading a page near the ending, another one of those pages that left him gasping for air since it'd knocked the breath out of him with its pure brilliance the first time he read it.

And Cary smiles when he reads through it again. Even though it's so heartbreaking that it's downright amazing that Leigh, casualness and optimism in its purest form, could write something this depressing.

_LAWRENCE: _

_I have to go and… Get help… If I don't get help, I'm going to… Bleed to death…_

_ADAM:_

_Don't leave me… No… No… _

Cary glances over at Leigh while he's reading.

How can he write like that?

Twenty-seven years old, barely graduated from film school and writing nothing but gruesome deaths, how can he write with such emotionality?

And how can he love Adam enough to know that heeven _is_ that emotional?

At that thought, another consideration comes to Cary's mind. And he begins it out before he even manages to register how bizarre it really is.

"Hey…"

Leigh looks up.

"What?"

"Is it me…" Cary begins and turns his page to scan over the very last one. "…Or could these guys totally be lovers?"

At first, Leigh seems to wait for him to say that he's kidding, but when he's gotten that he doesn't, he frowns, though still smiling, and finds the page Cary's on.

"Adam and Lawrence?" He says, laughter playing in his voice. "You're sick, man…"

"No, seriously," Cary says, pretty excited, since the idea makes more sense by the second now. "I mean, they've lived their whole life in silent hatred, and then they go through this together… Shouldn't they fall in love if they'd both make it out?"

"If they make out, I'm sure they'll fall in love," Leigh says with an inwardly smile, and Cary laughs out loud. "I can't speak for Lawrence, but Adam's a hell of a kisser. Anyway… Yeah… You might have a point there…"

He looks over the scene Cary just read through with that amused frown, and Cary finds himself very relieved that Leigh isn't as repulsed by this idea as most guys he knows would be.

But then again, it's impossible to imagine Leigh as a homophobe. Cary tries to fit that image into his head while he watches him, but he can't.

Leigh loves people. All people. As long as they don't step on him, his dreams, his visions.

It really is scary that Cary knows this much about him after meeting him a little more than a month ago.

"Well," Leigh concludes when he finally looks up again, "I'm not sure about Lawrence, but Adam's mainly straight. Although, there have been drunken nights in college when he stepped off that policy…"

_Fuck if there was!_

_Who created you, Adam?_

"I didn't even know he'd gone to college," Cary says.

"Only a year," Leigh says, very quickly considering that he's never given that part of Adam's background any thought, but that's the answer that popped up in his head, so he's just going to have to trust the insight he has in his characters.

"Wow," Cary says, impressed, and once again browses back to the scene they were really supposed to rehearse. "You know a lot about this guy. More than anyone else will ever know."

He thought Leigh would just chuckle at this and then, maybe, hopefully, go back to the page he should be looking at right now, so that James will finally exhale when he comes back out to them, but instead, Leigh looks up again, not insulted, but surprised. Like he really doesn't get what Cary's talking about.

"What do you mean?"

Cary looks back at him. He wants to smile, oversee Leigh's naivety as the experienced one of the two of them, but he just finds himself gape, dumbfounded, because for the first time in twenty years, he's actually heard someone questioning that statement.

He's still going to fight for his right, though. In a polite way.

"I mean…" He begins, tries to sound like he's making conversation, but just sounds desperate, like he can't stand the idea of someone taking these ideals away from him now. "I mean… It's not like people are going to… Come up with their own back-story for these characters. And I really don't mean that in a bad way, I love these guys, and you've done a great job with them, but… People don't do that. Not anymore. But… That has nothing to do with you."

Yup, he really does sound desperate. And it's for no purpose, because Leigh looks just as civilly surprised as before. Not demeaning, or even amused, just… Not understanding. And Cary really doesn't want to be the one who explains this more thorough to him.

Doesn't want to be the one who teaches him how Hollywood works. Doesn't want to tell him about the greed, the insensitivity, the slow, cold killing of the creativity.

But even if he would, he doubts that Leigh would listen.

"Why wouldn't they?" Leigh says, just surprised, nothing else. "I did it, didn't I? Even if they're… My guys, I can't be the only one who thinks about Adam's years in college, right?"

Cary wants to think of a smart reply, because if Leigh turns out to be right in this, it means that it's _him _who's been weak, _him _who's let this city squeeze the dreams out of him, and not just something that happens to everyone, and then he won't have anyone to blame.

Then it's him who's stopped thinking of back-stories for his characters. Him who's stopped seeing them as characters, something that wouldn't even be there and wouldn't be the same if he hadn't been there to give a breath and a voice to it, and just started seeing them as lines he had to learn.

But in the meantime, he loves Leigh too much right now to even have the willpower to disagree with him, so he just opens and closes his mouth a few times, looks down in the script to hide his astonishment, and finally mumbles:

"Um… I don't know…" He's not blushing, is he? "Well, maybe you're right…"

"I think I am," Leigh says sweetly and beckons weakly with his script towards Cary's. "You should try it, man. I mean, you're an awesome actor, but it helps if you can come up with… Why the characters are the way they are. I created Adam, so it's easy for me, but you should try it, too. Think of why Lawrence needs the control, what his childhood was like… Hell, think of his shoe size. If you know it, it'll show in your acting."

Cary can't even answer.

He can't answer, because Leigh is him right now.

Leigh's saying the words that are scribbled down in his journal from when he was twenty, yellowing pages screaming about the joyous anxiety and fragile dreams of a twenty year-old, words he hasn't read since he married Lisa, since he can't do that without getting heartbroken.

Heartbroken about whom he was. And who he is now.

And those are the words Leigh are saying right now.

So Cary keeps looking down on his script. He can't tell what expression Leigh has. But either way, he doesn't say anything more after that.

He could've kept arguing, hell, he could've started yelling, but he doesn't. Because he isn't that kind of person.

"Anyway," Cary says when he's pretended to read his lines for what seems like a believable amount of time, "let's rehearse some lines."

"You got it," Leigh says and straightens up, even though he's supposed to get in character now, and Adam's never really seemed like the guy who ever drops his shoulders. "Damn, I'm almost thinking about reading my lines without this accent just to see if James' head explodes."

Cary grins. And then he remembers his Marlon Brando impression.

The impression he did for the first time when he watched 'The Godfather' with Lisa. She giggled and giggled, slightly tipsy, until the laughter stopped and was replaced with wet lips and flushed cheeks, her hands inside his shirt.

But that's not what Cary thinks about when he remembers it.

And he will be ashamed of that later. But not right now.

Right now, he looks at his first line, and then pushes his lower jaw forward, grazes with his fingertips over his chin and puts on the Italian accent to make it complete.

"Right next to you, on the toilet," he says. Or Marlon Brando says.

Leigh looks up, first just surprised, but when he sees Cary's face, he laughs out loud and puts his hand over his face.

"Jeez, man, if you read it like that, he's going to start to cry!"

"Why?" Cary says, as himself now, before he turns back into the godfather, with the jaw and the fingertips. "Who says Lawrence can't sound like this?"

Leigh has to bite his lip to keep from laughing even more when he slaps Cary over the shoulder with his script.

"Fuck, man, stop that! We have to rehearse, we don't…"

"You're right," Cary says, and that's true, but he doesn't drop his impression. "Open your script, Mr. Whannell, I don't have time to work with slops like you."

And despite the bit on his lip, Leigh laughs even more, and Cary has to work not to crack up, himself, when he says one of Brando's lines from 'The Godfather,' with the accent so heavy that he's not sure if he'll even be able to say his lines normally when they start shooting.

"You come to my house… At my only daughter's wedding… And you don't even call me 'godfather!'"

They have no time for this. No time and no money, but they have the humor, the casualness.

The friendship.

So when James comes out of the production room fifteen minutes later, Cary and Leigh haven't rehearsed one single line, and they're laughing so hard that they have to clutch to each other's shoulders just to stand up straight.

**Aw… They're friends! And when was the last time friendship didn't lead to sex in one of my fanfics? Anyway, I know I shouldn't say this, since I think only really hardcore-Saw-freaks read this, but to explain Cary's impression: I've found that in almost every interview with Leigh that Cary's brought up in, the first thing he says is: "Oh, he does such a good Marlon Brando!" And Cary does it sometimes in the DVD commentary, too, so… Yeah. A start of a beautiful relationship, right? Anyway, review!**


	6. When Adam Isn't There

**A/N: Okay, I know I've updated like a Catholic nun, which means VERY innocent chapters, lately, but I've now decided to make it up to you! With a LONG and not-so-innocent-chapter! Hope you'll like it! **

**6: When Adam Isn't There**

This is just the first of many Marlon Brando-impressions.

Just like it's the first of many things. Rehearsals. Shooting days. Laughter.

Because Cary finds that Leigh starts laughing every time he does Marlon Brando. And that really is effective at some points, those times when Leigh gets news about postponed release dates or missing props, and Cary's heart wrenches at the idea of another creative mind ending up like his.

That's when Cary has to come along with his impressions, or coffee, or just with himself, since as himself, he's so desperate to make Leigh feel better that he gladly makes some far-fetched joke on his own expense that Leigh tries to roll his eyes at, but still has to smile and say that he wishes they'd never casted him.

It's the first of many Marlon Brando-impressions, because Cary would do anything to keep Leigh's almost childishly positive attitude. Sad, yes. But he doesn't know what he'd do without it.

Leigh's come to mean that much to him. Leigh's come to represent everything Cary believes in as far as acting goes, he's become a symbol of hope, something that proves that you don't _have _to be this way.

Every actress you have to kiss doesn't _have _to have the same lips.

That annoyed Cary at first. Mostly because of his own rightfighting. Now, it feels like it gets him through the day.

"I think I'll be like you one of these days," Leigh says suddenly, a point when Adam and Lawrence are released from their chains and turn back into Leigh and Cary, they get to have lunch and leave James to deal with the post-production.

Cary laughs so he has to put his hand over his mouth to keep his burger in there.

He has no idea what Leigh's going to be like in twenty years. But right now, he's never heard a more ridiculous statement.

"No way in hell," he says and shakes his head roughly.

Leigh smiles widely.

"No, really," he persuades. "I think I'll... I'll be like you. If some broke kids from Australia ask me to be in their little high school-project... I think I'll do it. I'll be like you, and reach out a hand, you know..."

His voice fades out, he clears his throat and hides his focus in his French fries.

Cary's forgotten about his food. He has to put all his focus in not putting his arm around Leigh's neck and hug him tightly, tightly, just to show how many hands he reaches out just by being there.

xxxxxxxxxxx

It's impossible not to worry.

Cary's sworn that he'll never be like his own father, never be The Worrying Dad who needs to keep tracks on his kids all the time just to make sure that they don't run off and scrape their knees, refuses to let them find a path on their own.

That's sort of why he became an actor. Just to get away from it.

And that's why it should mean more to him than it does.

But now, Cary feels himself slipping into that father figure, and that disturbs him now more than ever, since if he can't even see Leigh without a smile on his face without getting a dull, cold grinding in his stomach, how the hell is he supposed to be a good father, how is he supposed to see his daughter go to school alone if he can't even see a grown man in a bad place?

He will ask himself that later on. But right now, he's spotted Leigh, where he's sitting cross-legged on the movie set, leaning his back against the bathtub Adam rolled out of a few days ago.

This bathroom has almost become Leigh's home. He even eats his lunch here from time to time, and when Cary asks him why, Leigh just shrugs and replies, as a light blush creeps up on his face, that this is where Adam's going to be all the while, so Leigh's head will probably be somewhere around here, either way. No matter where he eats. So the rest of him might as well be, too, right?

That's how much Adam means to him.

But Cary can still see, by watching Leigh sitting there with his chin leaned against his fingertips, his elbows resting against his knees, and feel, by the gnawing anxiety that's crawling up from his stomach, to his chest, to his heart, that not even Adam can save Leigh from whatever's making him this sad.

And thus, Cary shouldn't be able to, either. But he still walks up to Leigh and sits down in front of him. Tries to act like he doesn't know that he's upset.

"Hi."

Leigh's gaze is loosely fixed on a point a few feet behind Cary, on the dirty floor. When he's happy, those grey eyes are rolling, glittering waves, and when he's Adam, they're furiously sparkling, passionately flaming, but now, they look like nothing. Just grey. Like dust.

In that way, Cary's almost happy that Leigh doesn't make eye contact with him when he answers.

"Hey, man."

"Is everything alright?"

Leigh's face is still blank, and Cary almost gets scared. It'd felt better if anyone else was on the set, but James is in the editing room, and even if there _had _been other people here, James is the only one that'd been able to put the waves back in Leigh's eyes, taken that layer of apathy that's like a mask over his face. The only one who doesn't just make the movie with him, but also is his friend.

Other than Cary, that is. So he's completely left to himself, and suddenly, he's not sure if that's enough.

"They're taking down the movie."

And when Leigh says those words, he's even more unsure.

Cary can only stare at him. He doesn't manage to really grasp this information, it's in his brain, but it just ripples around, doesn't leave any marks on the inside of his skull.

"What?"

"They're taking down the movie."

"Why?"

"The company... Um, Lionsgate, they..."

Leigh hasn't grasped this information, either, that's obvious. His words contain nothing, just black letters, straigt, hollow lines. And the rounds in the O's.

No emotion. Nothing that's him.

"They... 'don't believe in the script anymore,'" Leigh finishes off and makes little quotation marks with his fingers on the sides of his head. "They're cutting off our accesses. They're taking back all the money they gave to us. And that makes it sort of hard to finish this thing."

He looks so small. His voice is so small. And if it'd been Leigh who'd been this sad, Cary would've known how to comfort him, he would've used the information about him that's only grown over the course of a few weeks but that's still bigger than the one he has about anyone else on this movie set, and he would've made him feel better, bring some light over the dusty grey eyes.

But this isn't Leigh. Because Leigh has emotions. This is a shell of Leigh, a prototype. Mannequin.

And Cary doesn't know how to comfort him then.

"They didn't believe in the _script," _Leigh repeats and finally looks Cary in the eye, shows him the insecurity, the shattered dreams, the newfound self-hatred. "It wasn't James, or the production methods, or the goddamned _fucking _storyline... It was the script. They didn't believe in the script."

Cary sees where he's going with this, it's like a stab in his heart, and he has to lean forward and put a hand on Leigh's knee.

"Leigh..." He's not sure what to say, how could he be? "Leigh, that has nothing to do with you, you can't _ever _think that. Your script is amazing, it's just them who..."

He stops abruptly. Once again, he's not sure what to say.

How do you explain to someone that their script is like nothing you've seen before? How can Cary explain that Lawrence has basically become a part of him, that he's not even sure if he'll be able to shoot the scene where he saws off his foot, because it would break Cary's heart to do that to his character?

"I have never read a script this good," Cary settles for saying, and he means every word. "It's just the company, they get hundreds of script every day, and if they have to pick something to put money on, they don't base it on talent or passion or... They just base it on publicity. And budget, and... A bunch of other crap that doesn't mean a thing, anyway. That's just Hollywood. It's how it works. And that's not your fault. So don't ever think that, okay?"

Leigh doesn't seem to have heard a word he said, and Cary understands that.

Annie tried to tell him the exact same thing when she got him his first part. He didn't listen then, either.

But when Leigh doesn't, it worries him. Because unlike when Cary didn't listen to these words, it's not because he's too happy about his first part to listen to this crap, it's because he's in shock. Because he wouldn't hear anything Cary said right now.

It's because the condition Leigh's in right now is so much worse than the mildew of indifference that's spread in Cary's love for his work.

It's because right now, Leigh still cares about his moviemaking. But he hates it, hates his own script and he hates Adam, and that thought is another stab in Cary's heart, since he doesn't know how to change this, either.

"Leigh," he says, and now, he puts both hands on Leigh's knees, just to make sure he hears him. "You are an amazingly talented writer. If they don't understand that, you can give the script to another company. This can still happen for you."

And Leigh's reply is as sharp and hissing as an angry serpent.

_"How?" _He spits out between gritted teeth, and the eyes that meet Cary's again are as angry as Adam's, but worse, because they're Leigh's.

They're not acted. He really is this angry.

_"How _is this going to happen for me?" Leigh continues, and maybe his eyes water slightly before he blinks it away. "If this tiny little fucking company can't even waste a few bucks on my goddamned work, then who will? Dreamworks? One of the big boys? If they had to choose between our high school-project and something from one of those rich directors who pay them or blow them or whatever to get them to invest in them, who do you think they'd take?"

Cary opens and closes his mouth. He doesn't know what to say, but Leigh doesn't really seem to want him to answer, anyway, because he opens his mouth again after he's looked down again.

Concealed his shame. Bottled up his hurt.

Hidden away all the vulnerability. Only the hard, sharp bitterness, that no one can penetrate and no one can hurt, is there when he starts talking.

"I thought..." Leigh begins. "I thought it'd be enough... Just to be talented and love what you do. You know? I mean, I love Adam and Lawrence and even Jigsaw, and that must've shown in the script and made it good, and I... I didn't think I'd need much more. Is that so weird?"

Cary shakes his head without a trace of hesitation.

"Not at all."

Pause.

"When I first came here, I thought that was enough, too," Cary goes on, as much to himself as to Leigh. "But it's not. If there were more guys like you out there, it would be, but as it is, you're one of a kind. And if those sons of bitches don't want to make your movie and show that to the public, it's because people that aren't like them scares the hell out of them."

Now, Leigh looks up again. The disappointment isn't gone, but the anger is. And maybe some of the frustration. Maybe.

"Come on," Cary says, dares to smile a little and strokes Leigh's knee without even knowing it. "I'll walk you back to the hotel."

Leigh stands up, silently, and follows Cary out of the movie set.

The walk to the hotel is relatively silent. Cary's does think of quite a few things to talk about, but he's not sure enough about what'd upset Leigh even more and what would just be normal conversation, so he stays quiet. And Leigh is still too jaded to talk, except for a few times, when he curses at the movie company, or just talks about how he misses his family or how he's worried that he won't afford a plane back home.

But maybe it's just Adam talking.

When they arrive at the door to Leigh's hotel room, Cary feels like he's on a first date.

Like he's not sure if he's just going to kiss the girl goodbye or follow her in. If she wants him there.

Leigh seems to be aware of Cary's presence for the first time since they left the movie set. When he's unlocked the door, he leans against the frame, and his face is still blank, and the gaze on Cary's face is unreadable. Deep and mysterious as the sea that used to be there, and not unaware of anything. Anything.

That makes Cary uncomfortable. It feels like Leigh isn't just looking at him, he's looking past his forehead, into his mind, reads his thoughts and watches the colors of his emotions like they were a painting.

It feels like Leigh's sees Cary's insecruity about if he's going to give his girl a kiss goodnight.

Cary slowly opens his mouth. Touches Leigh's hand briefly, clears his throat, and makes up his mind.

"Goodnight, Leigh."

His mind draws blank for a brief second. Leigh sees that, too.

"Try to get some sleep."

Leigh nods. And his eyes bore even deeper into Cary, into his soul and spots his feelings for the young man in front of him, spots the involuntarily admiration, the protecting instincts, the friendship that's so strong that it's almost a kind of love, even though it hasn't had much time to grow, sees the uncertainty and registers the fact that his hand still hasn't left Leigh's, sees so much that it eventually feels okay for Leigh to, still expressionless, stand up on the tips of his toes, put a hand on Cary's shoulder and kiss him.

It really is that simple.

Leigh stands up on his toes, leans in towards Cary's face without a trace of hesitation and places a gentle kiss on his mouth. Without teeth or tongue, or even parted lips, but still so wrong, so much more wrong and dirty than anything that Cary's ever done. Ever.

And he doesn't fight back at all.

Leigh stands back down. His face doesn't show any emotion now, either, but it's still covered in a deep blush, and judging from the hot rush in Cary's cheeks, he doesn't look much better himself.

"Stay with me, Cary," Leigh says.

His voice is so soft. Tickles the smoldering coal in Cary's chest.

"I can't."

Cary's lips don't feel like his own. They have to form words around the remains of the kiss Leigh just planted on them, and that's not easy at all.

"I... Leigh, I have a wife, and... I can't..."

Leigh shushes him, still softly, but that's all it takes for Cary to give up.

Becuase as tainted as he feels right now, it's still something inside him that crumbles. Something that crumbled already when Leigh kissed him, crumbled the first time they even met. Before he even knew it himself.

"Cary," Leigh says calmly, still with his hand on his shoulder, "I have a girlfriend. And I love her, by _Christ, _I love her, but... I... Fuck, Cary, I..."

His voice isn't empty anymore. It has something.

Desperation. And something else. Maybe lust.

"I _need _this," Leigh finishes off.

Cary's given up, yes. But he won't show it, he shakes his head stiffly, tries to shrug the hand on his shoulder away along with the insight that he can't get out of this anymore.

"No, Leigh, I..."

"Shut it," Leigh interrupts, moves a little closer, raises Cary's body temperature even though his skin is already seething, pulsing with a want that he doesn't know where it comes from. "Let me... Let's just try this, okay?"

And before Cary even manages to answer, Leigh's lips are on his again.

So soft, so gentle, and they still ruin everything. Everything.

And Cary gladly accepts it.

Leigh's lips are on his, and when they part and force Cary to taste him, forces the warmth that were first only on the outside into him, down to the coal in his chest and sets it on fire, pushes it down, down, into his stomach and even further down, and that's when Cary also lets Leigh spin them into his hotel room and kick the door shut behind them, he lets them do all of this, he even lets Leigh open his mouth even further and roam his tongue with his own, lets them dance around each other, tasting, testing, searching for some sort of salvation, a relief to the pressure that builds up, more and more, and suddenly gets too much, and Cary has to bring his insecure hands to Leigh's chest, unbutton his shirt, feeling and asking for permission to claim as his own.

Cary lets him. Allows everything Leigh tries with him. And after a while, he doesn't only allows, he _initiatives, _he wanders with his lips over foreign skin, savours the throaty moans and tries to swallow his own, but fails when it gets too much for Leigh, too, and his slim fingers unbuckle Cary's belt and the moans turn into desperate growls.

It's not kissing Lisa. No. Leigh is rougher and needier, more scared but not caring about it very much, especially not when his hand finally finds something that can silence both the moans and the growls, because then, Cary doesn't care much, either.

**See? No annoying wives or girlfriends! Thank God that they always seem to know just when it's time to go... Anyway, please review!**


	7. The 'Want To' And The 'Got To'

**A/N: Hey, guess who's back with a new chapter? Sorry if it's poorly proofread, I'm writing it on someone else's computer. Anyway, I know things actually heated up a little in the last chapter, but since I'm an incurable mood-killer... Guess who has to ruin it? XD**

**7: The 'Want To' And The 'Got To' **

When Cary was thirteen, his father commited suicide.

He barely remembers those days. The Afterwards-days. And he doesn't want to remember them. The parts he does remember are just a black, raw, soft howling in the back of his head, the howling of things that actually are so awful that you remember them almost thirty years later, and that's enough to convince Cary that the rest is pretty much the same.

One of those things, those howling facts that still forms his personality, is a simple truth that he registered back then, even in such a young age, when he lied there, clutching to his pillow with his eyes red-rimmed from tears, or lack of sleep, or both: _Waking up is the hardest. _

Cary remembers that.

He remembers those nights when he managed to get some sleep. Remembers when the sunlight started to seep in through the blinders that couldn't go any lower, even though he didn't _want _to wake up, and he remembers that feeling of momentarily bliss that the sleep managed to give him slipping away, sand running through his fingers, remembers that feeling of thinking, just for a brief second, that maybe today, it will be okay again, but then he felt the wetness on his cheeks he hadn't even noticed, felt the cold, merciless vice around his heart, just to remind him that today was no different than yesterday, today was just another day that was just like before, just like before and still so frighteningly different.

And Cary has managed to forget some of those mornings. But today, he wakes up, and they all come rushing back to him, simply because the same thought that floated into a mind soaked with teenage angst now floats into one that's so childishly proud over how well it's managed to deal with those memories: _Waking up is the hardest. _

Especially if you know what's going to face you when you roll over to your side.

Especially if you can't even roll over to your side, because then, you will see the face of all your betrayals, all your unfaithfulness, the most immoral thing you've ever done will be there.

And it will be in the form of a young man who looks so innocent in his sleep that Cary will never be able to believe that about him.

Cary squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to go back to sleep. Because if he goes back to sleep, this will all go away, Leigh will disappear in thin air and Cary's going to keep those stupid, _stupid _images from popping up in his head.

It seems like he doesn't even have to see Leigh to be haunted by him.

Leigh is in his head now. Even more than before. But in a different form.

The Leigh that used to be in Cary's head was the one that giggled when Cary did his Marlon Brando-impression, one that played Adam with such conviction that Cary could literally see his eyes roll over and transform into Adam's when they walked out onto the movie set.

The Leigh that's in his head now kicks the door shut behind them when they spin inside, like in a dance, he avoids looking at Cary, maybe because it'd just take a moment, one single moment of self control for all this to go away, but when Leigh's gaze does brush over Cary's as he grabs his shirt collar and presses their faces together again, Cary sees that his eyes are dark, almost black, his face is focused in a way he's never seen it before, but what the hell, it's not like they've done any of this before, it's not like Leigh has ever sneaked his hand under the collar of Cary's shirt, stroking his neck and pushing him closer...

Cary groans tiredly and rubs his temples. Tries to fight the instincts to roll over to his side, even though he wants it even more now.

Because if he does, he won't be able to leave. If he avoids looking at Leigh, he'll probably be able to sit up, put his shirt on, haul up the pants that are wrapped around his ankles, walk outside and efficiantly, cautiously avoid looking at Leigh.

But if he does look at him, he won't be able to leave.

If he looks at Leigh, he will remember everything, everything, and he won't be able to walk away from it. He's going to have to stay, he's going to stay with Leigh and leave everything behind, leave Lisa, leave his freaking unborn _daughter, _just because...

Just because there is something about him. Something he gives Cary that no one else ever will.

At that thought, a little voice in Cary's head scoffs at his stupidity. Cary's almost grateful for that. If he didn't have anything to tell him if his lies were believable, he'd never be able to be a good actor.

_Elwes, why do you bother? You know damn well that that "something" that Leigh has is enough. You will stay here because it's enough. __You will stay here because that something is a passion for his life and for his work, for acting. And you're just dying to get a piece of that. _

_You love Lisa. But she's taught you everything she can teach you, you don't get anything out of your relationship anymore. _

_Leigh can teach you to love your characters again. And you want him to do that more than you want Lisa to protect you from everything, because acting was your way out. You can't stand the thought of losing it. _

_Can't stand the thought of losing what got you through those mornings when waking up was the hardest. _

Cary sighs and moves his rubbing fingertips to his eyelids.

Lisa. Lisa.

His wife. The mother of his daughter, his only love. He loves her, he does, the moon and the stars aren't enough to hold his love for her.

But she can't give her what Leigh does. And that is a fact.

So Cary rolls over to his side. Sees the face he knew he was going to see, Leigh sleeping peacefully, the sweat in his hair has frozen it in the ruffled haircut Cary's hand have made, his cheek caresses it when Cary runs his hand over it, the drool seeps slowly out of the corner of his mouth, but by God, he's still the most adorable thing Cary's ever seen.

Then, his cell phone rings.

And for some reason, Cary's heart sinks just at that moment, because he knows who's calling, of course, of _course, _who else would call him at this hour, who else loves him so much that she just wants to talk to him before he goes to work, just to wish him good luck?

He should know better. But Cary rolls over to his side again, the other side, away from Leigh, and spots his phone next to the bed, it must've fallen out of his pocket. Maybe when Leigh's slim fingers made a steady trek down from his chest, over his stomach, to his belt, and a _click _under the heavy breathing...

Cary slaps those thoughts away, lifts the phone to his ear and groans into the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Cary," Lisa yawns into the phone.

'Cary' because she doesn't like pet names, she thinks it sounds stupid.

The yawn because she hates getting up in the mornings, Cary has to tickle her until she does.

Cary knows all this. _Fuck, _he knows all this! Because she's his goddamned _wife! _

"Hey," he says in a gravelly voice. "Um... How are you? How's the baby?"

"We miss you," Lisa says, he can hear her smile. "She won't kick when you're not around, you know."

Cary has to bite his knuckles. She can't hear him crying, it only takes the tiniest tear to slip in between his words for her to hear that something is wrong.

"I'll be back home soon," Cary says and runs his hand through his hair, follows the pattern that Leigh's hand did without thinking about it.

_Now, now, Elwes, you think about it a little bit. It'll take you quite a while to forget that pattern, because it's carved into your skin. And Lisa would see it, too, just like it'd be painted handprints where Leigh had touched you, just like there'd be black spots over your face and your neck and your chest and your crotch... _

Cary's bite into his knuckles is even deeper now. But he doesn't even feel it.

The guilt is bigger than the pain any tooth can cause. And it's the same dead, black, cold steel weighing him down inside as it was when his father died.

"I certainly hope so," Lisa says. "To be honest, I miss you even more than the baby does. I don't move much when you're not around, either, I just stay in and order takeout and get even fatter."

Cary bows his head, his shoulders are shaking.

_Yeah. Because you want her to stop, I know, but can't you just ask her? It'll be good practice. _

_It might be good to know how to say no the next time you have to take control, the next time when you grab Leigh's wrists and roll over so he's on the bottom, when his black, lustingly brilliant eyes glisten up at you in the darkness, when you lower your face down to his, almost growling because you want him, so desperately, so greatly when you trace your kisses down onto his neck..._

_Shut up. SHUT UP! _

"I..." Cary has to work to get his voice back together. "I miss you, too, Lisa, but I... I have to go now. James needs me on the set early today."

"Oh, okay," Lisa says and yawns again. "Bye, Cary, I love you."

The lie he told earlier is still thick and sticky on his tongue.

The "I love you" he adds on top of it just makes it worse.

But at least Cary gets to hang up afterwards, and he doesn't have to smother the sobs anymore, just lets them tear over his throat and drop from his lips, heavy glass pearls of shattered trust, lets his shoulders shake even more and lets his hand clutch his hair, punishing himself and his _stupid _fucking head for refusing to let go, refusing to forget those images that he wants nothing more than to forget.

For just a second, he's him.

He's vulnerable. He's crying.

He is the scared little boy he tried to hide by acting up characters ever since those mornings. The hard mornings.

But when Leigh's arms suddenly wrap around him, the vulnerability drops and Cary basically jumps back to his feet, his eyelids close over the tears.

Leigh's eyes, on the other hand, are wider than Cary's ever seen them. And more vulnerable, too, because he doesn't understand.

Stupid Leigh. Stupid little Leigh.

But then again, Cary wishes he didn't understand, either.

Wishes he didn't suddenly know that he's going to leave him here, he's going to go back home to Lisa, because the movie's been put down, Cary has no obligations to either Leigh or James anymore.

He just wishes things had been different.

"What is it?" Leigh asks, his tone is as surprised and innocently wide as his eyes.

Cary rakes his hand through his hair again. Just to win a few seconds to think of what to say in.

"Leigh..."

Those eyes. How Cary loaths them.

"Leigh, I have to go."

"What?" Leigh goes, but then, he suddenly understands, Cary literally sees the spark leaving his eyes when he understands. "Oh... Okay."

"I'm... I'm sorry," Cary stutters and pulls his pants back up, he hadn't even realized he's been naked up until then. "It's just... It's Lisa, and... You have Corbett, and I... _Fuck, _Leigh, I'm having a _child..."_

"Cary, it's okay," Leigh sighs, pulls up his knees just to have something to lean his elbows on so he can hold his head up. "Seriously, it's okay. Just... Just go, please."

"Okay," Cary says bluntly.

Things are happenning so quickly. Cary has no idea how quickly, though, he just wants to get out. Away.

Because he wishes things had been different. But they aren't, and they never will be.

So suddenly, he's found his shirt, his shoes and stumbled out the door, trying to block out that feeling that he's left a part of himself in that hotel room. With Leigh.

**Aw... Isn't denial adorable? I mean, what would my fanfics be without it? Probably a lot shorter, since both Adam, Lawrence, Leigh and Cary would get together a lot sooner, but this way, it's even more angsty chapters that I sincerely hope you're going to review! **


	8. What Brings People Together

**A/N: Hi there! I know you all hate me for leaving it with a cliffhanger in the last chapter, but guess what? That's the way I like it! XD Anyway, just jump straight into the next chapter and see if the denial has blown over… **

**8: What Brings People Together**

Leigh has sort of lost tracks of time. He doesn't have a watch, and the clock in his hotel room is placed above his head, on top of the TV. He hasn't really had the energy to look up at it.

It's not that he's very sad.

It's just that he… Doesn't really feel anything.

It's everything. Everything that has happened during the course of not even twenty-four hours. His body has been pushed through what seems to be every human emotion you can possibly feel. He's felt a flaming rage, icy, dull numbness, a love followed by desire so big that it seemed to rise up, like a balloon that a child had lost hold of, when it floats up through the air, scrapes against the ceiling.

And now, all of that is gone, and he's back to nothing. Everything has to be built back up. Everything has to be gone through again.

The movie.

His movie. _Their _movie. The one that's meant so much to him, that constant ghost in his mind that he's hated and loved more than anything in the world, that thing that he's never been able to be away from, since even when he is, there's a small part of his soul that's there, with his laptop, hiding between the letters, trying to pose them into something that people will like. Something that he can live with.

And Adam.

_You've left me. _

It's such a stupid thing to think. Adam was never real, Leigh didn't even get to finish his portrait of him. The mindmap that is him.

But that's what's so horrible. Adam's half a character now, lies cut in halves somewhere in Leigh's mind. Bleeding to death.

Because they didn't believe in the script. Didn't believe in Leigh, in Adam.

And Adam means so much to him. Adam means more to him than he's ever wanted to admit.

And he's not there anymore. Leigh tries to find his voice, but his head is empty. It's blank.

_You bastard, you've left me… _

And Cary. _Fuck, Cary… _

Leigh doesn't want to put Cary on a pedestal. He finds that a very bad thing to do with anyone, since then, they just start thinking so much of themselves, they get a big head, and then, you can't respect them anymore.

And he hasn't done that with Cary. You can't put someone that modest on a pedestal, and it's not so much that Leigh necessarily look up to Cary, he knows they're pretty much on the same level. That's why they can talk about anything.

But in some way, he will always think that Cary's responsible for all his dreams coming true. Or, not really his dreams, since his dreams are Internet forums about the twist at the end, awards at film festivals, Emails from giggly fangirls with bad spelling and no commas.

Cary hasn't gotten him where he wants to be. But Cary's put him on the map, Cary's pushed him in the right direction. And he believes in him. Even when no one else does.

And Leigh loves him for that. He doesn't want to, he didn't even know that he did. In fact, he just came up with it. But he feels it now, a roaring fire and a calm warmth that rises in his body, a feeling that's too big for this hotel room, but wells out from the windows and spread with the New York wind outside. Like ashes.

He wants Cary there with him. And that's something he must never again admit that he wants.

And Corbett.

His beloved, beloved Corbett.

She's actually the thing that confuses Leigh the most right now. Since now that she in fact is the love of his life, and he's actually never loved anyone the way he loves her, why didn't he think about her when he was with Cary, why didn't he see her painted lips when he stood on his toes to kiss Cary's slightly parted, breathing nervously?

_Because things weren't so great between you. _

The thought is so weird that Leigh actually lifts his head from where he's leaned it against his knees.

That statement is so farfetched, so incredibly distant from the truth that it's never even crossed his mind before.

But in the meantime, when Leigh tries to think back of his time with Corbett, he realizes that he's never done this before. Simply because there are so many things he's chosen to forget. And that he's forced to remember now.

Like her first words when he told her that Cary had agreed to be in the movie.

_So you're really doing this thing? _

With the disappointment coating her voice. Like she'd sort of waited for something to go wrong, ever since Leigh started writing the script.

Like that amused compassion she got in her eyes whenever Leigh tried to discuss an idea for the storyline with her. Sort of liked she thought it was adorable that he even put so much effort into this.

Or like that brief roll of her eyes that she made way too often. The despise that's always been there, that pity over what was big dreams to him, but just naivety to her. And everything else Leigh hasn't wanted to stay in his mind.

She never believed in him. And he loves Cary, no matter how unpermitted he is to do that, because Cary believes in him.

Leigh leans his chin against his knees again.

_Corbett… I'm really sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to go back to you, because… I don't love you anymore. I did love you, I loved you more than anything for quite a time, but… It's been a while since then. I have new loves now. I have Adam, who you never thought would be loved but anyone but me. And I have Cary. At least if he wants to… Be had by me. If you can say that._

That's just the start of everything Leigh wants to tell her. But he's cut off by his cell phone, he'd basically forgotten it existed up until now.

Without the movie, no one calls him. He hasn't even talked to James, he has no idea how he's handling all this. That makes Leigh feel oddly selfish as he picks up the phone and answers.

"Hello?"

"Man, you have to come down there."

It's James. And Leigh knows that he hasn't heard James sound excited in the way he does now about anything except the movie, but he still doesn't get his hopes up. He doesn't dare.

"James? What's going on?"

James laughs. Or he sobs. Leigh feels like he can do both, because just like when Cary called him and changed his life, he knows. He just knows.

"They're picking it up again."

"What?"

Leigh doesn't get why he's asking this. He _knows, _damn it!

"They're picking it back up!" James practically yells into the phone. "I don't know what changed their mind, but who cares? Just come here, we're back on tracks! And we've lost a whole damn day!"

Leigh feels his eyes pricking. He's determined not to cry, though.

_You girl. _

_Shut up, Adam, you wonderful, wonderful little son of a bitch. _

"Okay," Leigh says in an uneven voice. "I'm on my way."

He can hear James' smirk through the phone.

"Are you crying, Leigh?"

Leigh chuckles and leans his forehead in his hand.

"Go to hell, James," he says, his words are gooey, like they're about to melt. "See you in a bit."

He hangs up and leans his head against the wall.

Leigh still doesn't feel anything. He doesn't allow himself to.

Because right now, his soul is like a dam. His emotions are water, heavy and rushing, mightily roaring.

If the dam bursts and he lets it all in, all the relief, all the over-bubbling joy and all the millions of weights that have fallen from his chest when he realizes that he won't have to walk through the rest of his life wondering what could've been, he will cry. He would sob like a little boy, because he's so senselessly happy and so drowned in his own expectations that it's almost too much.

And Leigh won't cry. He will save those tears for the finale scene in the movie. _His _movie.

In the script that they believe in.

He will save the tears to make Adam seem more believable.

_Well, that's just endearing, but just get off your ass now. If you lose more time, they'll take the damn thing down again, and I'll be stuck listening to your whining for another day. _

_So you heard that? _

_How could I not? _

_You didn't leave me? _

Adam blushes.

_Don't get any ideas. Get moving already. _

Leigh nods, his silly grin goes from ear to ear, and stands up.

Later on, Leigh will remember nothing of the bus ride to the movie set. Even though that's when the dam starts to creak, beams of water sprays out between the boards, the feelings almost get too much. So he should remember it, but he doesn't. The bus ride is insignificant to him.

It's the moment when he arrives to the movie set, when he sees one of the most significant things in world to him right now, that he will remember.

He will remember the back of the blue shirt, the blond strands of hair combed neatly against the back of the neck when Cary's unlocking the door. He will remember forgetting about cautiousness, about Adam, about the slightest worry he ever had that anyone would see them, nothing seems less important to him right then.

He will remember running up to Cary, the coughed-out gasp when he jumps up and flings his arms around his neck and clings to his back for a moment, like a knapsack, in a clumsy, gruff hug that he only has the patience to maintain in for a few seconds before he spins Cary around, pushes him up against the brick wall, finds his cheek with his hand and his lips with his own, not caring if he wants it, knowing that he does.

Because Cary accepts it, his mouth opens and tongues dance around each other, violent and impatient, because there are so many other things they have to make time for, so many dreams they have to fulfill, so much they mean to each other that they have to make sure that the other one knows.

Leigh knows they will learn that, though. If not as themselves, then as Adam and Lawrence. Because they're so real by now, they should be able to talk to each other on the behalf of Cary and Leigh, like mouthpieces for the insecure and scared.

When they have to break apart to breath, Leigh is still not ready to let go. He has to take his hand from Cary's cheek, move it to his back and hug him again, so tightly that he breaths Cary's scent through the buttons of his shirt, feels his heart beat against his cheek. Only for a second, until he lets go and looks up at Cary's modest smile.

_He looks like Lawrence, _Adam says, and Leigh replies _I know, I know, and I love him more than ever, _before he opens his mouth again.

"_Nothing _is going to ruin this production for us," he murmurs huskily. "Nothing, you hear me?"

He dares Cary to say no with a gaze boring into his. Both about what this sentence must sound like to everyone else and what it is for them. But in Cary's eyes, there is nothing but a glittering smile and a screaming _yes, yes, yes,_ and Leigh is completely convinced that he's going to protect both the meanings of his words. From anyone that would have the guts to try to hurt them.

**Some of you might now that I find it impossible to keep my sweethearts apart for more than one chapter… And that goes for RPS, too! Anyway, please review! **


	9. Their Own Little Bubble

**A/N: Hi there! As you may have noticed, Leigh and Cary hooked up in the last chapter. And those of you that have read my fics before; let's not tell the ones that haven't that it's physically impossible for me to keep things good for more than one chapter! Let them find out on their own! XD**

**9: Their Own Little Bubble**

To Cary, the next few days pass by as a dream.

Not necessarily because it's so perfect that it can't be reality. It's more that it's so _far _from reality that it makes pretty much as much sense as those twisted dreams you have as a teenager, where you're chasing your ex girlfriend through the locker rooms in school and always wake up with a completely useless erection.

Because Cary has never done anything remotely like this. Ever in his life. He's relied on sense and creativity, relied on reality but realized that reality isn't always durable, that you need creativity as a way out. If waking up gets too hard.

And he's never had a sexual thought about another man. He's never chased a guy through a locker room, not even in those dreams that are so twisted that he can barely look Lisa in the eye the next morning, and he's kissed the same lips for ten years except for the actresses that he still imagined the other lips on. And even then, Lisa's kisses are gentle, her hands are soft, her fingers are sort of tiptoeing across his skin and they smell of ridiculously expensive Chanel hand cream. They're not like _this. _

Lisa's hand cream is reality. It's Cary's reality.

And that feels so far beyond the world he's living in now that he can barely remember the smell of it anymore.

Leigh's hands are nothing like Lisa's. They're rough, so rough that Cary doesn't get how such a force can fit into hands that actually are pretty girly in any other aspect, they grab Cary's arms and push him into some dark corner of the movie set where he's sure that no one sees them, and when they're there, his fingers aren't tiptoeing, they force themselves between the buttons of Cary's shirt and scrape over his chest, they treat his body like it's his to control and keep as throbbing and hot as it only is when he's around, or, if Cary puts up too much of a fight, something that's his and that he rightfully wants back.

Cary very rarely puts up too much of a fight, though. When Leigh does find time to push him backwards into the hard concrete in the hidden, cool depths of the movie set, it's usually after a whole day of hands that linger on shoulders, Cary's warmth when he moves closer, the tickling of Leigh's whispers when James can't see them, and all that is too much for anyone to have strength left when they finally have time for each other.

And after days like those, it feels like the very first time. Every time. Leigh's just as needy and his eyes just as dark, only he's not as broken, he can claim Cary as his own with a different kind of determination, a raw, craving sort of sexuality that almost scares Cary sometimes, before Leigh's warm, open lips are on his and he forgets about everything that isn't him.

He does get to be in control sometimes, though. Because this isn't the first time Lionsgate drops some remark about the script, something hesitating about the movie that forces James to sit on the phone for an hour and a half to repeat over and over that they only have one goddamned _week _left, and those are the times when a light goes out in Leigh's eyes.

Or, it doesn't go out. But it fades down. Like something small inside him dies.

And that's when Cary has to be the one who takes his hand, not violent like him, but softly. Discretely. Lead him into his dressing room, kiss his face and his forehead and his neck and whatever place he may find in the hope to find a place that will convince Leigh how amazing he is.

Leigh can never have a bad thought about himself. Ever.

Because Leigh is Messiah to Cary, he's something that's been sent down from the heavens to save him when he was the most broken without even realizing it. Something to wake him up from his numbness and show him the world outside it.

And Cary realizes, one day out of the blue even though he should've done it long ago, that the reason that he's not sure that he'll ever be able to go back to Lisa, even if the mere thought of a life without her is unthinkable, is that she's a part of the old world.

That's horrible. He's never been able to think of Lisa as a part of anything bad, ever. But it's true.

He loves Lisa. More than anything in the world, he loves her, and it's not her fault, but leaving Leigh is even more unthinkable than leaving her.

Because he's realized that no matter who he chooses, he'll be living a life where nothing means anything and he's left behind everything that matters.

And he'd rather do that in the world that Leigh's shown him than the one he fears more than anything to go back to.

That's the only bad thing about the rest of the days they spend on the movie set.

The thinking.

Leigh usually sees it on Cary's expression when he does that. Weird, since even though he's still so meaningful that Cary's actually has to chose between him and his wife, but he's still only known him for a little less than two weeks.

He sees the clouds draw in and the pondering start to gnaw, and then he gives Cary a correcting look that would snap anyone out of their thoughts, and Cary has to look at him with a small smile to show Leigh that his focus is on him instead, and Leigh puts a hand on Cary's arm.

"Don't think," he says simply.

Not sternly. It's just a statement.

And Cary knows he's right. He shouldn't think. Because if he thinks, he might remember that this can't last forever. Not only because the production is over in a week.

But also because no matter how amazing the new world that Leigh's shown him is, it's fragile, it can just take a misinterpreted word or a wrong place at the wrong time for everything to crumble, fall to pieces under the pressure of reality and then be thrown aside. And Cary should keep that in mind, even without thinking.

It's just so much nicer not to do it.

To just drown in Leigh's scent of prop blood, greedily suck in his gruff fingertips and kiss all over his neck until he's shuddering and pressing up against him. It's easier that way.

But Leigh knows it, too. He's smart, he knows.

He has to know that he can create as many worlds as he likes and invites whoever he wants into them. The reality is still so much bigger than those worlds, and it's not hard for it to crack the walls of the air castles, seep in through the gaps in the mortar. And to Cary and Leigh, that happens at a point where that should be utterly impossible.

Leigh chuckles tiredly when Cary nuzzles in behind his ear, his teeth scrape against his earlobe and his breath smells like both of them, their fumes have mixed in both of their mouths.

"Can you sleep here tonight?" Leigh mumbles and closes his eyes for a moment.

Just for a moment. Cary props himself up on his elbow and looks down on him, runs a gentle finger down over his neck.

"Sure," he says.

The words _but I'm not sure for how many nights _aren't even said. Leigh hears them anyway, before Cary, even though the guilt strikes him before the reason does.

Leigh deserves to share bed with someone. He deserves everything that Cary can possibly give him, even if he's just realized that he might not be able to give him much.

Cary has a wife. Leigh has other people he has to bless with his naivety, all those things he hasn't realized yet but Cary still wishes every good person on the planet to let go of.

And those are worlds that Cary's not sure that they'll be able to go through together.

"Have you told James?" He asks suddenly.

Leigh doesn't answer. He rolls over to his back, looks Cary in the eye with a look that he can't read and runs the back of his hand along his face.

"No," Leigh says quietly. "Have you told Lisa?"

Cary smiles sadly and runs his fingers through Leigh's hair.

"You know I haven't."

"Will you tell her?"

Cary sighs, lowers his eyes and drops his fingers from the fondly bangs under them. He thinks of his reply a few seconds after he's said it.

"If you're not serious about this, I'm not, either. And if you can't even tell your best friend, I'm definitely not sure about how serious you are."

Leigh nods with a small smile. His hand has stopped on Cary's chin.

"So you're telling if I'm telling, is that what you're saying?"

"More or less, yeah," Cary says with a chuckle. Leigh's smile gets wider, Cary sees that a curl of his hair is sort of standing up from his head, it looks like a feather, and all of the sudden, Leigh is so furiously attracting that Cary has to lean in and kiss him softly, warmly.

Everything should be perfect. But Leigh still looks sort of blue when they break apart, his hand still on Cary's chin.

"Tomorrow," he says and looks up at Cary again. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

Cary nods.

"Okay."

After that, they don't say anything. Cary stares out the window for a while, thinks with the same kind of shrieking terror and joy that's so big that it presses against the rooftop of the universe that he felt when he was about to get married, that this is it.

Or, this isn't it. But it will be it soon.

Leigh will talk to James, he knows that. He won't bail out. And Cary will have to tell Lisa.

He's going to have to say goodbye to the most meaningful person in the world for someone who means even more. He's going to have to argue over the custody of his child.

All because of Leigh. Because of a twenty-seven year old kid.

He has no money, he's put it all in a movie that no one will watch. He lives on the other side of the world. One of them are going to have to move.

It's not until Cary looks down on Leigh, the closed eyelids and the mouth that's dropped open when his head fell to the side, that he remembers that it's worth it.

**Aw… One happy chapter! I didn't know I could do it! And if I can do that, you can review, right? :) **


	10. Adam And Cain

**A/N: As some of you might know, it's impossible for me to make chapters happy for more than one bit at the time. So of course this chapter has to be the one where Leigh tells James about his cute gayness and their relationship is ruined forever. (No, just kidding.) Either way, read on! **

**10: Adam And Cain**

Leigh wakes up before Cary the next morning, and he knows he should go to work straight away, since James is already there and he wants to talk to him before everyone else gets there. But he still has to stay in bed for a little while, watch Cary's face when he's sleeping, feel the strong hand on his waist. Like he doesn't want to let Leigh go, not even now.

Leigh has to talk to James today. And he doesn't even know what to say.

It'd be one thing if he'd just told him that he was gay. James would respect that. He might not understand it, and he might need a little time to absorb it, but he would respect it.

But Leigh's not sure how he will be able to understand. Because he's not gay, he knows that, but he also knows that he loves Cary the way he hasn't loved any other woman.

And neither is he sure if James will understand that the love he feels for Cary is, even if it's wild and crazy and irrational like they were teenagers, as deep and confusing as the one he once felt for Corbett was. Even though it's the product of something as shallow as Cary believing in Leigh even when no one else does, as Leigh making Cary loving his job again.

Maybe James won't understand that. Because Leigh doesn't understand it himself.

So it's with a pretty heavy heart that Leigh lifts his hand and strokes Cary's forehead, again and again, until his eyes flutter open and blue eyes look up on him, through a mist of tiredness.

"Morning, beautiful," Cary mumbles with a weary smile in the corner of his lips.

"Hey," Leigh says and sneaks his hand down Cary's face, plants it on his chest.

Cary lifts his hand, too, and Leigh feels fumbling, warm fingers raking through his hair.

He doesn't want to go to the movie set. Things are so good this way, he doesn't want to leave.

Especially not to a place where he has to see his best friend and more or less as for permission to keep being his best friend.

It's mostly to take his mind off of that that Leigh lifts Cary's hand, that's right next to his own, holds it in front of his face like a kid that's just about to learn that every body part has a name they have to learn to pronounce. Hand.

"You have big hands, Cary," he states when Cary braids their fingers together.

"Really?" Cary says, and his sleepy smile grows wider.

"Yeah," Leigh says and glances over at him. "And you know what they say about guys with big hands, right?"

Cary laughs, gives the strand of hair between his fingers a light tug. Leigh smiles slightly.

"You're such a pervert," Cary says softly.

He makes it sound like the sweetest thing he could've possibly said, but Leigh doesn't get happy. And he knows that Cary notices that, but there's a good chance he's forgotten the reason.

"I'm going to talk to James today," Leigh says with a sigh, and even though he lowers his gaze to the messy knot of Cary's and his fingers, he knows that Cary's smile fades down.

"I know, Leigh."

Leigh nods, like he's trying to prolong it for as long as possible, that moment when he's going to have to stand up, burst the bubble, walk out to that world that he loves but that's still such a damn pain right now. Then he sighs again, more prolonged, more like a whimper, and lowers his head to Cary's chest, puts the disarray of fingers and dependence under his chin.

"I don't want toooo…" Leigh whines and closes his eyes when Cary chuckles, draws his fingers out of his hair, down to his cheek.

"I know you don't," Cary says, strokes Leigh's skin with his thumb. "You don't have to, you can wait. I just think you should get this over with before we're finished with the movie, and you have to go home to Corbett and all… Because you should start with the hardest one, right?"

Leigh grunts something as an answer.

He doesn't really want to talk right now. He doesn't want to see, either, just wants to lie here, feel Cary's fingertips on his face and the hand intertwined with his own, hear their breathings overlapping each other. Not talk, not anything.

"Leigh," Cary murmurs after a few minutes, and his fingers get a little firmer. "You have to go now if you want to be there before everyone else."

Leigh doesn't even open his eyes, he just lets his head fall to the side, onto Cary's chest. He listens to his heartbeats and Cary's chuckle when he drops his hand to shake Leigh's shoulder, like he doesn't know that he's already woken up.

"Can't you at least jack me off before I go?" Leigh grumbles and buries his face in Cary's chest, while Cary's chuckle turns into a laugh.

"No," Cary answers and laughs again when Leigh grunts and grudgingly pulls away from Cary, tries to ignore how cold it suddenly got, and stands up from their bed.

"How do you think he's going to take it?" Cary says when Leigh finds his boxers in a heap on a chair with the rest of his clothes.

"Don't know," Leigh mumbles and tries to untangle his jeans from the frenzy ball they've formed to. "We've never really talked about this stuff, I don't know where he stands about it."

Cary smiles warmly, like Leigh is something very small and naïve that he never gets tired of lecturing.

"You've never talked about you having an affair with me?"

Leigh rolls his eyes when he puts his jeans on.

"No, we've never talked about gay people at all," he clarifies, it sounds clipped. "So I guess he's a homophobe and he'll shun me."

Cary's smile fades away, because he hears the uncommon annoyance in Leigh's voice.

"Hey," he says, and Leigh tears his eyes off the opposite wall. "You've never talked about gay people, either, have you?"

He continues before Leigh manages to answer.

"And would you call what we're doing very homophobic?"

It takes Leigh a few second to get what he means, and when he does, he blushes briefly and hides it by pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"Fine, fine, I get it. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go and indirectly break up with my best friend."

"Leigh, it'll be fine."

Leigh smiles, even though it doesn't seem to come as easy for him as usual, bends down to kiss Cary fumblingly, sort of half on the mouth, and steps into his shoes on the way out.

He's not nearly as nervous as he should be. But maybe it hasn't really struck him yet.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Indeed, when Leigh arrives at the warehouse, it feels like his stomach is full of cold, slimy jellyfish. Like James is someone he should be scared of, and that annoys him. James is his best friend, it's supposed to be him who's the one thing that can calm Leigh down when he needs it. And James himself is never supposed to be nervous, simply because it's not him.

James is the big brother. He calms Leigh down because Leigh is the nervous one of the two of them. That's just the way things are, the way they're supposed to be. But maybe they're past all that now.

James hasn't been a believable big brother once since they got here. Now, he's the nervously fidgeting young man that Leigh usually is, someone who needs six jars of Coke every day to stay awake as long as he has to. And Leigh…

Leigh has become more like Adam. Maybe that's what Hollywood does to people.

Maybe you don't even have to be successful to either be devoured by it or trapping a small part of it, like a flame in a cage, keep it in your chest like an eternal strength.

_Or maybe this is who we've been all along, _Leigh thinks dejectedly and unlocks the door, takes the stairway up in big leaps.

_Would the old James accept that you were sleeping with a married man? _Adam asks calmly.

_Yeah. _

Without any hesitation.

_Would this one? _

Leigh doesn't answer. The jellyfish gets colder just from hearing the question.

When he opens the door to the set, James is sitting with his papers on his crossed legs in the middle of the bathroom, right next to the puddle of blood Jigsaw's going to lie down in as soon as his makeup is done. Leigh has to smile, despite his anxiety, because it looks cute in a way.

"Hey, man," Leigh says, tries to sound natural.

Maybe he succeeds. Either way, James looks up with a smile, despite the lingering dark marks under his eyes.

"Hey," James says when Leigh starts walking up to him. "How's it going?"

_Just say it, he'll be fine. _

Adam's always right. But Leigh still doesn't believe him.

"I… I have to tell you something."

The ice is broken. The worst part's left.

James looks up when Leigh sits down in front of him.

"What?"

Leigh looks at his hands. He said to himself that he'd be a damn grownup about this, look him in the eye and think that if James doesn't like it, it's his loss, but that's easier said than done.

In fact, doing it seems impossible, it feels like he throws up the word when they land in his mouth, and when he finally gets them out, it's with a spinning head and the sour taste left in his mouth.

"I've been sleeping with Cary."

God, he can't even look at him.

It sounds so weird when you say it like that. And maybe that's why James can't even react straight away, he just leaves Leigh staring at his hands and waiting for something to take his focus off that unnaturally cold feeling that settles between them, like a thick smoke.

"What?"

So much different from the last time he says it. But Leigh still manages to look up, with a feeling of frost creeping up on his heart.

"I've been sleeping with Cary. I've been… Cheating on Corbett. With Cary."

James' face is completely blank. His lips slightly parted, his eyes wandering down and down, like he puts so much energy in trying to understand that he can't even keep them straight anymore.

"Are you serious, Leigh?"

Now, they jump back up. Leigh liked them better before.

"Yes. But it's not like it's just… You know, he's not my booty call or something. I… I think I might be in love with him."

James lets out some sort of quivering recognition when he exhales. Puts both hands on his neck, leans his elbows on his knees, pulls his hands up against his face. Tries to understand, but how could he. How could he ever understand.

"When… How long have you been doing this?"

He tries. And even though that's as far as they'll ever go, Leigh feels a small relief splitting all the black inside.

"Since Lionsgate took down the movie. I was bummed, and he comforted me, and it just sort of happened."

"And you've been… Doing it since then?"

"Yeah."

And then, an unstoppable stream of words come out, Leigh says everything that's on his mind, or at least the start of it, since apparently, no matter how much power he gets from the flame in his cage, there is still some part of him that's so annoyingly thirsting from James' approval.

Sibling relationships tend to never change on that point.

"I'm telling you this because I hoped you'd understand," Leigh blurts out. "I mean, it's not like I've changed! I'm still myself, and you like me, I just share beds with someone else. And you never really liked Corbett, anyway…"

The last part was a gloomy excuse for a joke, but James doesn't seem to hear him. In fact, he's so eager to cut him off that Leigh wonders if he heard anything he said.

"Leigh," James interrupts and drops his hands, looks at him again. "How could you not tell me that you were like this?"

Leigh shrugs with a scoff.

"I didn't know myself! It's what I am, or what I've become, can't you… Can't you understand that?"

"No!" James exclaims, but he doesn't sound annoyed. "How… How the fuck could I understand that? You've been sleeping with a married guy, how can you understand that _yourself?"_

And to that, Leigh doesn't have an answer. His mouth just hangs open and he keeps looking at James, almost desperate, just wishing that he'd take it back, or that he'll get his smile back and become himself again, anything but this, anything.

Because if James doesn't take this back, Leigh can't be friends with him anymore. And if he can't even maintain that small part of his life before Hollywood, what he starts here must be something that he can live with for the rest of his life. And even with Cary, that seems very uncertain.

And of course, it's the fact that Leigh's never wanted to admit how much he cares what James thinks. And just when he sees the way he looks at him now, he can literally feel his own tolerance for himself going down like a clockwork, he sees Cary's and his love getting more dirty and immoral by the second through James eyes, and thinking of an answer gets even harder.

If he hadn't felt the need for closure like a dull ache in his chest, he wouldn't even go back to Cary tonight.

James and Leigh stare at each other for a little while, sort of daring the other to say something and begging for it at the same time. But then, James gathers up his papers and stand up, leaves Leigh in the blood and the grime on the floor. Leigh's gaze his stuck on the place where those eyes used to be, until he hears James' voice to the left of him, and he has to look at him, look at the almost dejected face above him.

"You were my little brother."

Waits for an answer. And then he walks away. Leigh stays where he is.

'Little brother' used to be the closest James ever got to an endearment with him. They never really had the sweet-talking kind of relationship.

But all the sudden, it's said with a past tense. And then, it's almost as depressing as that voice in the phone that told Leigh that they didn't believe in the script.

Maybe their friendship is past tense now. Maybe that's what Hollywood does to people who've been best friends since they were twenty.

Or maybe it's just what happens when you actually, for the first time, fall drop-dead, ridiculously in love, and the person you thought were your friend can't accept it. Can't understand.

Has to break the cage where you kept your little flame, set it loose and leave you empty and cold.

**Hehe… I have a feeling there'll be a LOT of bashing from James-lovers from this chapter. But hey, there has to be a bad guy, right? And I don't want to pin it all on Lionsgate, they might sue me… XD Anyway, even if it's just to tell me what a bitch I am, review! **


	11. I Wouldn't Lie To You

**A/N: Wow, I got off pretty easily on making James an asshole! I feel like I should use that somehow… XD But either way, I have a new chapter right here, and I have a feeling this'll upset people more than anyone being mean to Leigh… **

**11: I Wouldn't Lie To You**

Leigh's not sure how he gets back to the hotel room. He has a vague memory of showing his bus pass to the driver, and he thinks he walks past a fat, black woman on the sidewalk once. But he doesn't remember where, or where he's going when he sees her.

He doesn't remember if he's going anywhere. It's possible that he's going nowhere at all.

He does remember walking into the hotel room, where Cary's lying on the bed, drowsy and half-asleep, with the blanket covering his hips and his legs splayed across the mattress. He remembers that, but even then, it's like it's happened long ago, or in a movie he didn't pay much attention to.

Why. That's what he doesn't get.

_Why? _

He remembers kicking off his shoes and walking up to the bed while Cary blinks lazily and puts his hand under his head.

_Why? _

Cary doesn't ask anything. When Leigh sits down on the bed and falls back, lands on Cary's arm and snuggles up against his chest, it's completely quiet.

Cary just wraps his arm around Leigh's back, runs his thumb over his neck.

Leigh's never loved him more than he does right now. In the same time as he's never felt more… Not belonging. Like he should be somewhere else.

He feels like the alarm clock has torn him out of his blissful slumber and he knows he can't stay in bed, but is still too tired to be somewhere other than there.

Right there, where everything's soft and warm.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Leigh quiets down. He's laying the exact same way as he did when he first lied down on the bed, and Cary hasn't moved much, either. His hand is still on Leigh's back, his fingers are still grazing over his neck.

"He didn't say anything else?" Cary says quietly.

Leigh shakes his head, almost invisibly. He's been staring at the same place for fifteen minutes now, right below the middle of the curtain.

"I'm sorry," Cary says with a sigh. "I didn't think… I mean, I really thought you were good enough friends to… Stand above that crap."

Leigh senses his emotional apathy break a little bit. He almost starts feeling.

He thought they'd rise above that, too. He thought they really were like brothers, that they could fight and wrestle and bicker over the Playstation and hate each other if they had to, but in the end, they would stay together. Because that's the way it had to be. Not for any particular reason, just because.

"I just don't get it," Leigh says in a frail voice and looks up at Cary. "I don't get… Why. We were best friends, we'd lived in the same damn college dorm in film school, we… We did everything together."

Pause.

"Is that how easy it is?" he goes on, even more frail now. "I just… I just have to say that I'm sleeping with a guy, and all the sudden, none of that is worth a damn anymore? Is it that important to him who I'm with?"

Cary so badly wants to give him an answer. His heart is aching for it, since after all the answers Leigh's given him, it feels like he deserves nothing less. But in lack of something better, he just keeps stroking Leigh's hair, shakes his head, and says the first thing that comes to mind.

"I don't know," he says simply. "I think he's just... Worried. Having sex with women is basically he only thing men are supposed to do. It's biological. And if you stop doing that, it means you basically stop being a man, to some people. Maybe he doesn't want to be a part of that."

Leigh scoffs tiredly, but Cary thinks he might see the hint of a smile.

"I wish all I had to do was having sex with girls," he mumbles, but the hint of amusement that's almost always there is suddenly gone. "Life would've been so much easier."

Another pause. Cary wishes he didn't get what Leigh means, but he does.

"Now you have to do things," Leigh continues tranquilly. "You have to make those fucking dreams come true. And fall in love with people just to realize that they don't even want them to come true."

"Yeah, I know," Cary sighs.

Leigh starts fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. They don't say anything.

"So what are you going to do about him?" Cary asks after a while.

Leigh shrugs. His face is blank.

"I don't know. I think it's more he who has to make the decisions here."

Cary nods slowly. He knows Leigh is thinking about something, something he wants to get out, and Cary tries to be the patient and understanding one, but there's a small part of him that doesn't want Leigh to say something, since he somehow knows it's going to be something he doesn't want to hear.

"Cary..." Leigh indeed says, softly. "This is... It's not because of you."

"I know."

He hates James. Hates him for doing this to him.

"But..." Leigh goes on, remorsefully. "Seriously, I don't think you don't get us. Me and James. You don't get how much I care about what he thinks. I don't want to do it, I try to stop, but... The whole reason we even managed to get along about this script was that we were one mind, we thought the same about everything. And even if we disagreed on something, I just gave up, because that's what I did. I... I was his little brother. It was what we did."

Cary doesn't answer when Leigh pauses. He doesn't think Leigh would listen, anyway.

"And when I told him, and he reacted like that..."

Cary nods, cuts him off. Doesn't want to hear anymore.

He's going to see James every day for the rest of the week. He doesn't need another reason to hate him.

"Yeah, I get it. Of course I get it."

Leigh sighs. He doesn't really seem to get it, himself.

Cary wishes he'd get it. He wishes Leigh would understand everything, so he could keep teaching Cary.

So maybe he'd understand how much of Cary's big brother he is. Maybe that would give him the guts to stay with him.

"It's not for good," Leigh says, and finally looks at him. "I just have to... Get used to the idea. Is that okay?"

Cary nods again. And he wants this to be the serious, almost teary goodbye, but he has to smile when Leigh looks at him like that. Even though it breaks his heart.

"Of course it is."

"Will you wait for me?"

Cary cracks up, and Leigh chuckles with a weak blush, too, but he gets serious quickly again.

"I know it sounds girly, but seriously."

Cary straightens up his features, looks into his eyes.

"Sure. Just... Don't take too long, okay?"

Leigh nods, even before Cary manages to finish the sentence. He looks happy, but there's something in his eyes that Cary doesn't want there.

"I won't."

It shouldn't be there. Whatever's in his eyes, Cary doesn't want it there.

So he leans down and kisses him. Softly, sweetly, and Cary thinks it's amazing just to take his mind off of everything else.

When he draws back, Leigh's smile seems a bit more sincere. His hand travels up to Cary's neck, his nails graze over his jaw line.

"We'll finish this damn movie," he says firmly. "Then we'll talk. Okay?"

Cary nods.

"Okay."

Leigh nods, too. That thing comes back into his eyes, but Cary doesn't have to look at it, because Leigh lays his head back down on his chest before long. Cary keeps running his fingers through his hair, Leigh stares out into space. And none of them say anything.

Cary knows that Leigh's not breaking them up. He wouldn't tell James about them if he weren't serious, so he wouldn't finish it because of something like this.

They're going to stay together. Cary's going to leave his wife, even though the thought still scares the hell out of him, Leigh's going to let go of James and stand on his own two feet, and they're going to be together. Because that's the way it has to be.

They wouldn't get so close to it just to break it off.

But still, when Cary stands up a while later and leaves to go to the movie set, he has to hug Leigh so tightly that he should get bruises on his arms before he goes, just to make sure that he'll be there when he comes back.

**Aw, aren't they just as stupid as Adam and Lawrence… If they hadn't been just as lovable, too, I'd be really annoyed! Anyway, please review and tell me how much you hate me for doing this! **


	12. More Than A Stupid Horror Movie

**A/N: Why, hello to you. I know how much you must hate me for breaking my sweethearts up in the last chapter, but what the hell. I've done that with Adam and Lawrence a million times, and you all seem to forgive me as soon as I hook them up again! So, will this chapter end with you loving me again? One might wonder… ;)**

**12: More Than A Stupid Horror Movie**

Leigh hadn't counted on how lonely he would feel while they finished the movie.

Cary and James sort of take each other out. Being apart from Cary would be easier if he'd just had someone there who he felt calm and safe with instead of wild and crazy, just like being apart from James would be easier if he had that wildness in someone else, a pair of soft lips waiting for him.

But right now, he really has no one.

God, it sounds so dramatic. He's on a movie set, he's surrounded by people every woken second and he can tag along with the producers when it's time for lunch without it feeling weird. So no, he's not lonely.

It's just the two most important people in the world that he can't spend time with. There are two aching holes in his soul, and he fills it with synthetic importance. Work, acting. Expensive phone calls to Corbett even though he feels, equally surprised every time, that with every word, it becomes more and more obvious that he hates her.

"Are you coming home soon?" she asks him one night when he's alone in his hotel room and fidgets with the bedspread.

"I think so," Leigh answers halfheartedly. "I don't know how many days of shooting we have left, but there shouldn't be many. And then there'll probably be some crap James wants to take care of before we go. But I'll be home soon if everything goes well."

"Good," Corbett says, and he hears her smiling. "I miss you."

She makes it sound like an order. A silent demand for him to say that he misses her. And Leigh can't obey, so he just asks her how things are at home, and she tells him about her boss being an idiot and a movie that was on TV last night, and Leigh keeps fidgeting with the bedspread.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Cary misses the movie sets more and more with every time he has to go back to his hotel room.

He misses home, too. Of course he does. Lisa still calls him every day, and every day, he tells her that with every minute they talk, it's five dollars less in college money for their baby, and Lisa answers that they can home school instead.

"Will he or she ever get to leave the house?" Cary then asks.

"No," Lisa replies. "We'll keep him or her inside until he or she snaps and starts killing people."

"Sounds like a movie I'd play in," Cary says. "Maybe that's how we'll get those damn money back, don't you think?" And she cracks up.

It's easier to talk to her now days. Maybe because he doesn't have a constant reminder of what he's done dragging him into dark corners, penciling his lust out of his own.

It's easier now. But the bitter taste of guilt is still there. Always.

Mostly because of Leigh who sits in the other end of the room in his chain and wave subtly when their eyes meet accidentally.

None of them are completely sure what they're going to do. They pretend to be, but they're not. Leigh's just as unsure of whether or not Cary will have the guts to leave his wife as Cary is himself. And the way Leigh's eyes anxiously search for James' every time they meet is just a proof of how hard it'll be for him to pretend not to care about what he thinks.

Leaving your old life behind is hard. He never got that before.

Leigh had never assumed that things would change when they did this. He knows just as well as before that no one will watch this movie. The surprise lays more in how much that changed just by coming here to Hollywood. Realizing that there actually are people other than James and his mom that care about the things he writes.

_That's not so weird, is it? _Adam says thoughtfully one night when Leigh hangs up and lays the phone on the nightstand. _You already knew they'd agreed to finance the movie, you should've realized that people like your stuff by now._

_Yeah, you're right, _Leigh says and lies down on his bed. _It's just different when you're in the middle of it, I guess. _

_Yeah. _

Pause.

_You know, _Adam goes on, and God, he honestly sounds excited, _I really think he's going to leave his wife. I mean, why would he stick around with her after what you did? If he'd loved her like he says he does, why would he cheat on her in the first place? _

Leigh chuckles when he hears the way Adam talks.

_Adam, goddamn it, _he says tiredly. _I designed you to be someone who hates everything and everyone. Since when do you care about people's relationships? _

Adam scoffs something in return.

_Gee, man, I'm sorry. Guess it's hard to not give a shit about who you're sleeping with, since you're more or less my mom. _

Leigh almost laughs out loud.

_Now, now, I created your mom, too. Don't you compare me to her. _

_No, you're right. She's a bitch. _

Leigh sits up on his bed with a small smile.

_I'm glad we're agreed on that point. _

At least he has Adam. But that thought makes him a little sad.

He wants more than a voice in his head.

xxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later, Leigh's still on the movie set. Even though they shot the last scene hours ago.

He doesn't want to go to the hotel room. Because there, he's going to have to call Corbett, and then he'd actually prefer to stay here. Even though Cary's gone back to the hotel room and the only ones here are James and the editors, and they're all crammed into the tiny editing room.

_I'm here, Einstein. _

_Adam, I love you, but you don't really count as far as social engagements go. _

_Aw, thank you, I feel so useful. _

Leigh smiles briefly.

This bathroom. He's going to remember it the rest of his life, he knows that.

Even if no one watches the movie, this is still the holy, the place where it all happened. The place that's been in his head for so long, and now he could walk around, touch the walls, feel the chain around his ankle. See Lawrence on the other side of the room and his face turning back to Cary's when James yelled 'cut.'

In Leigh's mind, this is the place where everything changed. Even though it was technically back in the hotel room.

At the door. On the place where Cary had shuffled his feet nervously before Leigh couldn't stand it anymore.

_It's because he wouldn't have stood there if it wasn't for this bathroom._

_That's probably true, _Leigh says and leans his head back against the wall.

Everything's different now. And he didn't even know he wanted it to be.

Leigh startles when he sees James enter the room.

He thought they'd at least entered the stage where they could say hello when they met without it feeling like an awkward college reunion, but now, James doesn't even seem to notice that he's there. He scratches the back of his head, messes up the red and black hair and places his hand on the wall for no apparent reason, until Leigh has to ask.

"You okay?"

James looks up. His expression is surprised, but it doesn't seem to be over the fact that Leigh is there. It's something else.

"Yeah," he says and scratches his head again. "It's just… We're done."

Leigh raises his eyebrows lazily.

He wishes he could make some sort of sarcastic remark about this. But he doesn't feel entitled anymore.

"What're we done with?"

James shrugs.

"The movie."

For a second, Leigh feels his stomach falling, like when you ride a rollercoaster but without liking it, because he's convinced that they're done for the same reason as before, that it's the script or the cast or some other stupid reason that makes Lionsgate take it down again, but that doesn't last for long.

He would see on James' face if they'd done that. Because despite what it may seem like right now, they do know each other that well.

"We're done with it?"

James chuckles nervously, keeps fidgeting with his hair.

"You know I don't have a schedule for our scenes, man," he says, almost embarrassed. "That's another cut-back we had to make. I never know how many scenes we have left, I just take it out of my head. And just now, I checked the scripts which scenes we have left, and… There are none. We're done. We just have to leave the post-production notes to those guys, and… Then we're done. We can go home."

Leigh knows he has the same look on his face as James. That one that writes words on his face: _Is it already over? _

It's the biggest thing that's ever happened to him. How can it be done already?

How can a whole life change in eighteen days?

How can a dirty bathroom and some words on a paper put the whole world in a new light for him?

It feels completely surreal. And so empty, Leigh has to work to keep the incredibly girly tears down.

_You won't leave me now, will you? _

_No, you little schizo-case, I'll stay until you want me to take off. _

"Seriously?"

James nods. Smiles.

"We're done?"

James' smile grows.

"Yes, Leigh, we're done."

"Wow."

Leigh has no idea what else there is to say. So he stands up, even though he should stay, for just long enough for them to let this fix them, but he has someone else he has to talk to first.

James and him will have time. And James seems to get that now, too.

"I'll be back later," Leigh says and walks past James towards the front door. "I have to talk to Cary, but… I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

He feels James nodding behind him. Despite the mention of Cary's name.

"Sure thing. Oh, and Leigh…"

Leigh turns around. Tries to look wondering, even though he knows exactly what he's going to say.

James doesn't seem to be sure, though. There's a pause, before he drops his hand and says the first that comes to mind.

"You're my best friend," he says lowly, like he doesn't want anyone to hear. "You know that, right?"

Leigh grins. The happiness over these words drowns in everything else he feels right now, but he feels it. By God, does he feel it.

"Yeah, I know," he says and starts walking again.

Leigh feels his hand brushing over the walls of the bathroom when he leaves. Like he doesn't really want it to end.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The ride on the bus feels like it takes way too long. Leigh's one step away from bouncing up and down like a little kid, but fortunately, he manages to contain himself. He knows the hotel will be there when the bus stops, and he knows who'll open the door with a slightly surprised look on his face.

That's something he can wait for. He already has, even it's been too long.

When Leigh's opened the front door, he takes the stairs in a few big leaps, and he's in such a hurry that he almost passes Cary's floor and has to take two steps down the stairs again, half-run up to the door and knock with such jitteriness that Cary must think something's on fire.

He looks pretty calm when he opens the door, though. Leigh doesn't get how he can do it.

They're done now, doesn't he get that? They're _done! _

Cary's smile. Leigh's already emotional, so when he sees that smile, it almost gets too much, his fingers are twitching and his smile seems to split his face in half. Cary doesn't even have time to ask what's happened.

"We're done!"

Cary looks at him with polite calm.

"What?"

"The movie's done!" Leigh sputters out, like Cary's an idiot. "James doesn't have a schedule so he doesn't know when we'd be done, and now we are! We're done!"

It still seems to take Cary a few seconds to get it, and when he does, and a light spreads across his face, the one Leigh doesn't recognize because it can only be cast on people that have lived the past twenty years in a mist of indifference, and now finally understands how much these years have meant to him. But at that point, Leigh's calmed down enough to stop jerking his fingers and just throw his arms around his neck, and Cary has to hold him up so his feet dangle ten inches above the floor.

Leigh doesn't want anything to change. Even though he knows that things have changed so much already that they'll never go back to normal.

But when Cary holds him up like this, he for some reason realizes that dreams come with a price. He's going to have to break up with Corbett, move away from home. Say goodbye to everything and move on to everything else.

And that thought scares him, the fear almost devours the happiness. He has to cling to Cary's shoulders even tighter to make sure he doesn't lose himself in the fear. Like Cary did.

"I don't want anything to change right now," he mumbles with a graveled voice.

Cary can't possibly get what he means by that. But he doesn't ask, God bless him.

"It doesn't have to," Cary mumbles and keeps holding him, refuses to let go.

He's right.

When Leigh and Cary keeps embracing, when Leigh's old dreams and Cary's newly discovered ones are a radiating glow around them, nothing changes at all, since it's already completely new.

**Now, with a reunion like that, you have to forgive me! XD Oh, and I should tell you: There's a slight chance the next chapter will be the last one. Wah, I know… Okay, now you hate me, right? Review and let me know how much! ;) **


	13. Let the Game Begin

**A/N: WAH! The final chapter! How very sad for all of us… But hey, I've got a whole life of torturing you with my ChainShipping-obsession, and just imagine how much worse it'll be when the seventh movie, in which it'll be revealed that both Adam and Lawrence survived and have had mad, passionate sex for the past five movies while everyone else has just been tortured, comes out! XD**

**13: Let the Game Begin**

Leigh's standing in front of the doors to the Sundance Festival.

It'll be hours until Saw opens. They show the horror movies at night, and it's just three PM, but he wouldn't be able to stay in the hotel room if he tried. He woke up at six this morning, barely able to stand since he fell asleep about two hours earlier but just as unable to stay still, unable to eat, and unable to talk. To anyone but Adam.

Even though Adam isn't his anymore. He's moved on. He's not Leigh's to analyze and to change all he wants anymore, he'll have other people to do that now. It hurts him a little bit.

_I haven't gone anywhere, man, _Adam says quietly, and Leigh has to lower his head so people won't see him smile. They probably already think he's crazy enough for standing in front of the building and stare at it with childish wonder for twenty minutes.

_I know. I just miss the days when it was just the two of us. It feels like we've drifted apart. _

_Oh, for fuck's sake, stop talking like that, _Adam moans, and Leigh grins stupidly again. _You make it sound like I'm going to be sent to a goddamn research lab, and there won't even be any real reviews on this thing. _

He's right about that. The only Sundance movies that get reviewed in the papera are the ones that make it past the festival, like Resevoir Dogs and Blair Witch Project, and Saw won't exactly be one of those. Not a lot of people will watch it, and the ones that watch it will probably be just like Cary predicted them. They won't study it, feel it and carry it with them. It'll be just another gory horror movie.

They'll just notice the blood, sweat and tears that's on the screen. Not that that's an invisible mist over it.

But the reason Leigh is this nervous is that he still knows that it's there. He knows the story behind the story. And God knows it's not a pretty one.

He lost so many things on that movie set. And he still doesn't know if he's gained anything.

_Yes, you do, _Adam scoffs, and Leigh realizes that as much as he loves Adam, he does miss the time when he could have one single thought that wasn't talked back at. _You got a new boyfriend, didn't you? And this damn movie made, even though it won't really be a blockbuster. You're just complaining because you're scared of what's going to happen next. _

He's right again.

Leigh has barely gotten used to talking with American accent. Adjusting everything else to this, living here, without Corbett, without _James,_ seems like going in way over his head.

_You won't leave me, will you? _

_For God's sake, we've been through this. _

Leigh chuckles.

_Right. _

Then he feels the hand on his shoulder. He doesn't have to turn around.

"Hey, man," he says, actually pretty casual, that hand seemed to take away most of his nervousness.

"Hey," Cary says and stands next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Leigh says and shrugs. "Just a little nervous."

Cary nods. There's a pause.

"It'll be fine," he then says and squeezes Leigh's shoulder. "Even if this one doesn't make it to the Oscars, it's… It's still your first movie. And it's better than most others."

Leigh smiles modestly.

"Thanks. I know. It's just a bit scary."

Cary's hand took away the nervousness, but it's placed something else there. Something hot and wobbly, melts the pricking ice inside.

"I was terrified, too," Cary says. "When my first movie premiered. And I was even younger than you, I was, like, twenty-two, but trust me, that's not nearly as scary as what happens after that. When you have to try not to be jaded, or lazy."

Leigh chuckles and sends him a fake accusing glance.

"That's not really helping," he says smoothly, and Cary laughs.

"Don't worry," he says, and his fingers graze over the strands of hair in the back of Leigh's neck. "It happened to me, but it won't happen to you, I'm sure of that."

Leigh nods. The ice within that he thought was just nervousness seems to have been something else, more like the expectations, the fear, everything he knows might be but doesn't dare to hope for. But either way, when it melts, it's so hard to keep down, it wells up, almost chokes him, too big for his body to hold.

"Have you talked to James yet, by the way?"

"No," Leigh says and tries to calm the trembling hands in his pockets. "Or, I called him this morning and asked if he'd be here, but I guess that's not what you're referring to."

"Not exactly, but I guess that's a progress," Cary says. "You think you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Leigh says with a shrug, and he means it. "Or… Yeah, I think we will."

Pause.

"He's like a big brother," Leigh continues. "This cocky, annoying, full-of-himself-big brother. He's so used to boss me around, me doing something for myself is completely new to him. But he won't be able to ignore me forever, he knows that, too. Things will be alright if we just give it time."

"Good," Cary says and squeezes his shoulder again.

Leigh knows he's smiling. Even though he can't really look at him right now.

"Have you talked to Lisa?"

Cary sighs. His smile fades out.

"No, I haven't. It's harder than I thought. But I will."

He pauses for a second.

"I still love her, you know," Cary says, and Leigh has to look at him. "I'll always love her. But I've already decided that I love you more."

Leigh smiles, even though it gets harder with every second.

"That's good enough for me," he says, and tries to turn his face away, but Cary's already noticed.

"Leigh," he says, half concerned, half amused. "Are you crying?"

Leigh runs an impatient hand under his eyes. The tears are hot and searing, and they come way too easily, but he still does his best to keep them down. If he's going to cry, he doesn't want to do it because he's nervous. Let's have some limits to the girliness.

The problem is the name on the film program. That's the biggest obstacle he has to overcome right now, because it makes his vulnerability so obvious. And they're handing it out right now, on the festival.

_Saw. _

The title is right there, for everyone to see.

See that they're playing his movie. Because Saw is his, despite what he's telling himself. And even though he's not really allowed to call it his own anymore, it'll still mean enough to him to make it feel like it is.

It'll always be what got him here. To all these new problems that have to be dealt with. The new happiness he has to feel without knowing how long it'll stay.

"It's my movie they're going to play in there," Leigh says and nods towards the door, and Cary understands. Leigh doesn't have to say anything else.

"I know," Cary says, and his smile comes back. "Scary as hell, isn't it?"

Leigh chuckles through the tears and nods, and Cary thinks that he'll never forget the way Leigh looks right now. With the impatient wiping of the tears, the sly grin despite it.

And the best part is, he'll probably get to see it so many more times. They'll do enough great things together in the future for there to be a possibility of that.

"You want to go inside?" Cary says and tugs on Leigh's arm slightly. "It'll be hours until we have to go watch ourselves getting tortured, there has to be some movies to see before then."

Leigh smiles slightly, takes his hand and hopes no one will notice, and then starts walking towards the gates, into the building where his previous life will only be a whisper in his ear and the future will be rolled out like the red carpet before him.

**Aaaaand CUT! Another completed fanfic! Damn, I'm so proud… They grow up so fast! Anyway, I hope you had a good run! Let me know what you thought of it! Love ya!**


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